I think my feet are acquiring the smell of wet boots or it could be that my boots smell like wet feet. Anyways there’re some funky odors embedded in my socks. It has been raining just about everyday during the last 3 weeks, but the rain doesn’t stop the work. I have been helping dig fish tanks and gardens, teaching English classes, and leading cake baking classes.
Cake class was well attended by males and females alike. The women took turns as head chef, and the men took notes for their wives. We make four different cakes: vanilla, chocolate, lemon, and ginger/cinnamon. All of them cooked in a cake pan inside a large pot over a fire. And all of them turned out well, and now I have requests coming from all over the community for follow-up classes. Which means lots of cake sampling. Now I have to think of more goodies to offer classes on that use other local produce. Maybe soon I’ll be teaching marinara sauce and pumpkin pie classes.
English classes are a bit of a challenge, but lots fun. My students, who number my host parents, neighbors, and town’s government official, are very excited. Some even bought new notebooks for the occasion.
I haven’t bit the mud (fallen) in over a week, and I am starting to earn some street credit among community members. Although climbing up mountainsides is no longer the challenge it once was (Columbus, Ohio didn’t supply much training there), I still find myself tired before the day is over ad more susceptible to illnesses. All of the newness around me is a bit much, and it is hard not to internalize the sadness or be overwhelmed by the abundance of teaching opportunities or injustices, the 17 year old with 3 children from a man 10 years her senior. Sometimes I go nuts inside. But it’s one day at a time, one soggy step followed by another soggy step.
Saturday, July 26, 2008
Sunday, July 13, 2008
Nature´s Bounty
My early morning Naso studies on the Fourth of July were interrupted by new voices in the house. My host dad and brother had just returned from an overnight hunting trip. I came out of my room to see my host dad open up his son’s book bag and reveal the bounty: one wild chicken (Spanish: perdiz, Naso: srun) and a rodent-like animal, ñeque. While he proudly posed for a picture (see below) he told me about the conejo pintado (another rodent animal, possibly endangered, that sells for $2/lb in the city) that got away. They also returned with some wild tomatoes and rabo mono, tender fern tips. After cleaning the animals we sat down for an amazing holiday feast.
I have been afflicted by a new round of skin ailments. Sixty-four little red mounds from the bite of a little black bug cover my body. My feet have been sampled so much that they have swelled up and I now only take my socks off to shower. I also think I have athlete’s foot. But I think I have had it for a long time and just didn’t realize what it was. Initially, I thought my toes were weird because I had been walking with sand between my toes, but the itchy peeling continued long after the sand was gone. At least I now have a use for all the anti fungal cream I received for my rash in training. And then there is the blister/rash from stinging nettles, a tropical version that I earned cutting brush in my host family’s banana grove.
My feet are more sure on muddy hilly terrain. I am still far from navigating with the skill of the Naso and my boot are still destroying my feet, but my steps are lighter and my body less awkward. Falls still happen, but my third paw has been temporarily retired. Two teachers that live in my community have taken me under their wings. They have taken me to nearby Guabito for ice cream and grocery shopping and invited me to lunch in their house. They prepared a meal of smoked, fried chicken drumsticks, potato salad, white rice, fried ripe plantains, and lemonade. My culinary expectations are not what they used to be, and it was a treat to see so much variety in one plate of food.
The tight rope I had been walking was yanked upon in a community meeting this past week. A very outspoken community member made an ultimatum that I and the Peace Corps state which king we support. While my regional leader offered a diplomatic response, the subject will be settled in the coming weeks with the PC Panama director, the two kings, representatives from the 11 Naso communities, the agriculture group I am working with, and various others. While I am hopeful and confident that the conflict will be resolved happily, I still am still a bit fearful that I may be asked to leave my new home.
The evening after the meeting, my host dad tried to cheer me up. The conversation went something like:
Host dad: “Everyone has to confront obstacles in their lives. A long time ago there was a man named Jesus Christ, and he had to overcome many trials. Some people even wanted to kill him. And then they did.”
Me: “I am not sure I like this example. What are you implying?”
Host dad: “Just that there are some bad people, but a lot of good ones, too.”
Anyways, things are going well. The food and work are abundant. So is the recreation. I am developing my own extreme sport from harvesting oranges. Because my host family has all of their citrus trees planted on the side of a very steep hill, I am becoming practiced in trying to grab the fruit as it rolls full speed down the hill.
I have been afflicted by a new round of skin ailments. Sixty-four little red mounds from the bite of a little black bug cover my body. My feet have been sampled so much that they have swelled up and I now only take my socks off to shower. I also think I have athlete’s foot. But I think I have had it for a long time and just didn’t realize what it was. Initially, I thought my toes were weird because I had been walking with sand between my toes, but the itchy peeling continued long after the sand was gone. At least I now have a use for all the anti fungal cream I received for my rash in training. And then there is the blister/rash from stinging nettles, a tropical version that I earned cutting brush in my host family’s banana grove.
My feet are more sure on muddy hilly terrain. I am still far from navigating with the skill of the Naso and my boot are still destroying my feet, but my steps are lighter and my body less awkward. Falls still happen, but my third paw has been temporarily retired. Two teachers that live in my community have taken me under their wings. They have taken me to nearby Guabito for ice cream and grocery shopping and invited me to lunch in their house. They prepared a meal of smoked, fried chicken drumsticks, potato salad, white rice, fried ripe plantains, and lemonade. My culinary expectations are not what they used to be, and it was a treat to see so much variety in one plate of food.
The tight rope I had been walking was yanked upon in a community meeting this past week. A very outspoken community member made an ultimatum that I and the Peace Corps state which king we support. While my regional leader offered a diplomatic response, the subject will be settled in the coming weeks with the PC Panama director, the two kings, representatives from the 11 Naso communities, the agriculture group I am working with, and various others. While I am hopeful and confident that the conflict will be resolved happily, I still am still a bit fearful that I may be asked to leave my new home.
The evening after the meeting, my host dad tried to cheer me up. The conversation went something like:
Host dad: “Everyone has to confront obstacles in their lives. A long time ago there was a man named Jesus Christ, and he had to overcome many trials. Some people even wanted to kill him. And then they did.”
Me: “I am not sure I like this example. What are you implying?”
Host dad: “Just that there are some bad people, but a lot of good ones, too.”
Anyways, things are going well. The food and work are abundant. So is the recreation. I am developing my own extreme sport from harvesting oranges. Because my host family has all of their citrus trees planted on the side of a very steep hill, I am becoming practiced in trying to grab the fruit as it rolls full speed down the hill.
piggies eating pifá, a plam tree fruit that also graces my plate 
my host brother, the dwarf
My host dad and brother with the night´s catch
wild tomatoes with rabo mono
cooking the ñeque and perdiz
my host mom grinding corn 
neighborhood kids 
the biggest pot I´ve ever seen in a home
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