Rebecca whipped eggs for about a half hour trying to acheive the "soft peaks" with the wireless elbow grease of our grandmothers. We made a gluten-free chocolate polenta cake with cacao from Kate's community.
Elmo "the frog"
Rainy afternoon in the hammock with Chami. What a snuggler.It has been so long since I've updated this 'ol blog. But it's funny, the longer I'm here the less the experiences I have impress upon me the need to record them. They become less out of the ordinary. I don't carry my camera with me as often and my journal, instead of filling with the happenings of the day, is a place of introspection and answerless questions.
Time is such a funny thing. There are days I stew in my community and wish it were all over. Days that I say to myself that if I didn't have a latrine project that I've promised to a nearby community I would call it quits. Then the next day, I think how sad and strange it will be when this is all over. An example:
Two days ago I woke up. It was raining, as it always does in October. It had rained all night and the fog that wrapped itself around the hill promised it would rain all day. I had two English classes at the school that morning so I ate breakfast, fed the cat and walked down to the school, planning my lesson as I went. The teachers had planned exams for that day and had neglected to tell me, so I walked away from the school without giving class. (Not a big deal, but a total of one hour walking in the rain). I went to visit a family on the other side of the communtiy. 2 months ago the 14year-old son was harvesting pifa (a squash nut that grows on a spiny palm) when 3 of the spines fell into his eye. He went to Panama city for surgery and the doctor made him an appointment for several months later. The kid approched John (the previous volunteer in my community who was visiting at the time) and asked for the money. "The doctor told me if there was a gringo living in my community I should ask him for the money." Unlikely. We helped him to write a letter to the Comarca senetor, asking for his support. To make a long story short they didn't get the money, although the money was waiting for them. They blame me. Really it is just a story of poor communication that plagues cross-cultural conversation. Then I spent the rest of the day at a funeral. I've been to funnerals before, but this is the only one I have sat through from the begining to the end. I won't go into the detailes. It was very sad. And funnerals, as my friend Kayla and I talked about, have an interesting way of illuminating how far you really are from being a true member of your community. I looked around and realized how many names I didn't know, how I couldn't remember where people lived within my community. I didn't even know the face or name of the boy we were burying, even though I consider his family to be one of my favorites, and I pasear with them quite a bit. His mother has 12 children, so it is not suprising that I can't picture his face. I felt like an intruder, but I knew once I went that I couldn't leave until it was over. When it was all over and they were serving food they served me first in a bowl with a spoon (everyone else ate with their fingers from a banana leaf). Even that display of respect has a power to seperate and make one feel seperated. I honestly don't know if they were glad I was there or felt that I was an intrusion. It is most likely the former, based on my experience, but sometimes it is hard to tell.
The next day I ran around from home to home organizing work days and I had possitive interactions with everyone I met. And thing fell into place as if because, as they say here, God Wants. And my gloomy mood lifted even though it continues to rain, and rain and rain. I have a nutrition charla with 50 women in my community coming up, lots of soil conservation barriers. Things are good!
Games in Kate's community. Me in Kate's dress. Slimming no?
