Saturday, May 18, 2013

Goodbye and Transitioning





I am back home on Long Island after living in Panama for 3 1/2 months. Everything feels strange and familiar at the same time. I have to restrain myself from saying “Gracias” to people and still can’t quite get the hang of throwing toilet paper in the toilet instead of the garbage can. But I am enjoying the cool weather and amazing food. I ate raw cucumber today and I’ve never been so happy!
As for the end of my adventure in Panama, the last week felt like finals for sure. I somehow wrote a 40 page paper in Spanish for my Independent Study Project, gave a successful 20 minute presentation on it in Spanish, and then gave another 20 minute presentation about Spanish literature to get upper level Spanish class credit. But after all of our presentations and papers were done, we had our “dis-orientation” as we liked to call it in Las San Blas archipelago in the Kuna Yala comarca along the Caribbean coast. It was absolutely gorgeous and every tiny tropical island we visited felt like we were inside a post card. It was also incredible to see how the Kuna people lived, learn more about their culture, and try to decide which beautiful molas to buy (squares of intricately sewn cloth into beautiful designs made by hand by the Kuna and used in their traditional clothing). It was exciting to finally see an indigenous culture benefitting from the tourism in their communities, and running their own tourism independently: the Kuna controlled the boats, hotels, and everything.

 The church on one of the island communities in Kuna Yala.

It was hard to say goodbye to that crystal clear blue water.

 (photo courtesy of Marybeth)

Once back in the city we went out to dinner at a cheesy Mexican restaurant that gave everyone crazy hats. It was hard to say goodbye to everyone after being constantly together for so long, but by the time Sunday morning came around I was ready to go home.

 Everyone together at the beach in Kuna Yala

The two Mexicans representin'

Before our flight, a few friends and I made one last trip to Plaza Cinco de Mayo to do last minute shopping among the artesanias there and we were lucky to stumble upon a local tipica dance troup practicing in the courtyard. They were honestly the best tipica dancers I’d seen in the whole country and it felt like a fitting goodbye to the country to watch them practice for a while. Then we survived the most terrifying taxi ride ever back to our community before we made our way to the airport.
And about 7 hours later I was in JFK airport, exhausted and not thrilled about having to explain that my bag was missing in Spanish to one of the attendants at the baggage claim. Leaving that airport was one of the worst feelings because I honestly thought I had lost that bag forever, and it had every single souvenir I had bought inside it. (Future note to other study abroad students: spread out your souvenirs when you pack to go home). Then, miraculously, the bag appeared unharmed the next morning at our doorstep and I could have hugged the delivery guy.

Almost losing my luggage made me think about what I was really bringing back from this experience. While it will be nice to have things to share with other people to reflect my travels, I know that what I really brought back wasn’t in that bag. I definitely see life in a new light after my stay in Panama. I know more clearly that I want to remain engaged in community work and that I love speaking and learning Spanish. I know now that people get by with very little and yet still have their hearts full. And I have come to understand better the vastness and wonder that is this world we live in.  I don’t know if I’ll ever again have the chance to snorkel in the Caribbean, or hike a volcano, or talk with indigenous people in their community, but I do know that I would like to continue traveling. I have never studied so little and learned so much. I have never felt more satisfied in my own abilities, but simultaneously so uncertain of my own culture. Coming home I hope to integrate all that I’ve learned and seen into my daily life. I hope to live with a more global perspective and to actively give back to this world which has blessed me with incredible opportunities.

Thanks to all of the wonderful people who have supported and encouraged me (both in Panama and in the US) during this semester. Thanks to everyone who has read my scattered thoughts as I have traveled, and I hope that I have been able to share a little bit of Panama with each one of you.

Tuesday, April 30, 2013

Organic Farming Travels



I can’t believe I only have two days left here in Cerro Punta! My time here has been incredible – everyone has opened their homes, farms, and hearts to welcome me and I will miss it dearly. I have learned so much from the determined pioneers of organic farming here. I am inspired to project the same level of dedication to organic gardening in my own life. Since I have a 25 + page final paper and presentation to work on, this blog will be short. Sadly, good-old Cerro Punta internet won't let me load any photos so just try to picture gorgeous organic farm scenery while you read this and I'll try to add photos later.

Los Quetzales Hotel, Guadalupe
In short, I’d love to vacation at this nearly self-sustainable hotel and spa with its own organic gardens. The owner kept handing me different fruits, edible flowers, and veggies to taste throughout the tour – even diving over bushes to reach them

Santa Clara
I interviewed three different farmers here and stayed with an adorable couple. They helped me practice pronouncing my “erre” in Spanish with tongue-twisters, and I also got to eat organic “budines de guineo” (banana muffins).

Finca La Victoria
This is the farm that Don Roger, my host dad, works on and is owned by GORACE as a group. Its way way up at the top of the mountains and thankfully we got a ride from his neighbor. The ride was much appreciated as the roads were “muy muy feo.”  I was challenged to a discussion about gay rights in Spanish by the neighbor, which made me practice my Spanish. In the end we came to a respectful truce and I earned the complement, “El mundo entero es una belleza, especialmente con mujeres lindas como Ud.”

Seeing Finca La Victoria I was endlessly amazed and impressed by the legacy left by Don Roger and all of his wisdom about organic farming. Even though the farm was in “una descansa” I could feel the tranquility and wholesomeness of the place and all the delicious produce that it had grown. I also got some amazing photos of Don Roger, which I am excited to send to him. This man is the gentlest, wisest, and most dedicated person I’ve met in Panama, and his sense of humor always keeps me smiling.

Ganados y Vistas
I traveled to a farm seeking certification and saw a newborn calf (truly a miracle because when we arrived it was merely a hoof sticking out if it’s mother and the farmer had to help it turn around so that she could give birth), and an incredible view of Cerro Punta, as well as a pretty gnarly hollow tree!

Refugio del Sol
Emelia is the woman I aspire to be at 70. She speaks fluent English and Spanish, has her own organic garden with a small business selling to locals, adopted an adorable abandoned puppy, and has a fire-y yet nurturing personality. Some of my favorite quotes from her include: “That was 50 years ago, girl!” and “Cada persona falta un tornillo.”

Dominos
This weekend I finally got the opportunity to play "dominos decimales" with Don Roger and it is really tricky. He says I’m learning, and that’s a kind exaggeration, but it’s very fun and I can’t wait to teach everyone at home.  I am also learning a bunch of “recetas en estilo cerropunteño y panameño” (recipies) to attempt to replicate at home.

Las Nubes
In this tiny community every knew each other and I was overwhelmed by the warm welcome I receieved as a complete stranger. I finally got to see Parque Internacional La Amistad and some gorgeous organic farmland. Lunch included a head of lettuce just minutes after being plucked out of the ground.

Arco Iris
In the middle of last week, after a stressful meeting in which I learned I had a lot more work to do, suddenly a perfect rainbow appeared in the sky. I took a million pictures, but none of them captured the magic of that moment. A full arc of neatly arranged colors was hovering gently over Cerro Punta. I felt like a giddy child, unable to contain my smile as I walked back home with Don Roger, who was thoroughly amused by my amazement.

It has been a blessing to have the chance to live here for a few weeks. I will miss the gorgeous views and everyone here. A piece of my heart will always remain in the misty mountains of Cerro Punta.

Saturday, April 20, 2013

Solamente en Cerro Punta






So I had my first interview no-show this morning. I guess that was bound to happen. But at least I used my time "productively" to write down some Cerro Punta anecdotes to share with you all. 

First of all, every food here is "en estilo cerropunteño” which basically means add carrots, onions, celery, red peppers, and cheese. So far I've had cerropunteño pizza, eggs, and tacos and I'm loving it! Here are some more cerropunteño-isms that I hope you'll enjoy.





Conversations with a goat:
Don Roger: ¡Ruperto!
Ruperto: ¡Maaa!
Don Roger: ¿Qué pasó?
Ruperto: ¡Maaa!
Don Roger: ¿Cómo estas?
Ruperto: ¡Maaa!
Don Roger: ¡Vengo!
Ruperto: ¡Maaa!
Don Roger: ¡Tranquilo, me voy!
Ruperto: ¡Maaa!

Don Roger’s vendetta against moscas:
Whether it’s in the middle of dinner, a meeting with GORACE, or a TV show, Don Roger is always on the lookout for flies. He’ll be sitting peacefully, then suddenly he’ll notice a fly out of the corner of his eye. His face falls serious and concentrated. He cocks his head to one side while his hand hovers until, SMACK! Then his beaming face will look at me, and he smiles as he confirms, “Lo maté.”



Coffee:
It is acceptable to drink coffee at any time. Coffee in Cerro Punta is like Windex in My Big Fat Greek Wedding – it solves everything. Breakfast of course needs coffee. Then that part of the mid-morning where you start to fee restless: coffee. If it rains: coffee. If it doesn’t  rain: coffee. If lunch is just not ready yet: coffee. If lunch is over: coffee. If you arrived early to a meeting: coffee. If you are in the middle of a meeting: coffee. If you are going to take a nap: coffee. If you just woke up from a nap: coffee. The pervasiveness of that little bean is incredible.

Wednesday, April 17, 2013

"Very good con papas"




After having a packed schedule every day for the past three months until now, I didn’t know what to do with myself when I arrived at Cerro Punta in the heart of the agricultural highlands of Panama without any schedule at all. I’m here working with a local group of farmers called GORACE (Grupo Orgánico de Agricultores Cerropunteños) on my independent project about the organic certification process and how it can be improved. My host family is adorable; Don Roger and his wife Nella have already insisted I am like their daughter. I have already noticed my Spanish ability increasing just by talking with them for the past few days. Although their house is not exactly the quaint farmhouse I’d originally imagined for my ISP, it has a gorgeous view and the softest bed I have ever slept in.


Also they have a goat, whose name I forget right now, but it responds to its name with a "maaa."
Yesterday I spent two hours chatting with Don Roger after breakfast about everything from politics to technology in the usual fashion of conversations with elderly people nostalgic for the past and concerned for the future. He is a character and I love how animated he gets when he tells stories. While his mumbling is sometimes tricky to understand, I think I got the gist of the first story he told me over dinner. It’s about gringos who try to order food at a Panamanian restaurant without knowing what the food is called. All they know is that someone told them the food is “very good” so they order “Very good con papas.” Or something like that. I’m definitely missing a key part to that story, but now he repeats the phrase whenever we eat, depending on what we eat: “very good con patacones,” “very good con huevos,” etc. It always makes me smile, despite not understanding the story completely simply because he gets such a kick out of it.
I still cannot seem to escape the typical Panamanian idea that fried food is good food and ate Spam for the first time yesterday, but at least I get lots of fresh vegetables too. My favorite dish so far is “la pizza cerropunteño” which has peppers, onions, carrots, celery, and cheese! I also discovered the delicacy that is “papallitas,” which is like a syrupy kind of fruit that tastes something like a mixture of thick jam and honey.


The town of Cerro Punta is very quaint and filled with mini-supers and suppliers of agrochemicals and farming equipment. Thankfully I was able to find two different places with internet that I can rely on, although one of them smells faintly of fish for some reason so I’ll use that one as a last resort. I honestly still can’t quite wrap my head around the fact that I’m living here with a family completely on my own. There are other students in towns nearby so hopefully we can visit each other sometime, but it’s nice to have my own schedule and to be staying with an elderly couple who treat every day like a quiet Sunday. I am thrilled to watch the news again, something that I did a bit in the city but didn’t’ have access to during our travels. Without internet in the house, I feel more attached to the TV to keep me informed of what is going on in the rest of the country and the world. I was especially shocked and saddened to hear about the attack in Boston. My thoughts and prayers are with the victims and their families. There has been nonstop coverage about it here in Panama; Panamanian news has lately been focusing on international news almost exclusively between the attack in Boston and the election in Venezuela.
I am finally able to understand television announcers, which is a very exciting accomplishment. My next goal is to understand the characters who speak a mile a minute in telenovelas, like those in “El Man es German.” That show quickly became my favorite possibly because it is reminiscent of old Disney channel shows due to the sheer goofiness and younger characters compared to other telenovelas.
Today I had my first adventure here trying to meet my adviser in the next town over. Due to an unfortunate series of events, I missed the bus stop and ended up in the middle of nowhere halfway between two towns. Needless to say I was frustrated with myself and the bus attendant who knew clearly where I wanted to get off but didn’t say a word when I missed my stop, but you can’t stay too mad for too long when you’re walking with a view like this:


Thankfully, after 15 minutes of walking, a wonderfully helpful couple in a pick-up stopped to help me and they kindly brought me to the bus stop I needed, explaining that the restaurant that was supposed to mark my stop was recently closed and knocked down. After dozens of other cars (including that stupid bus that let me miss my stop) simply passed me by or just gave me “piropos” (one was even in the form of a bark shouted from a passing truck), the kindness of that elderly couple was just what I needed to replenish my faith in humanity.
So naturally, after my successful meeting with my adviser I treated myself to some “fresas con crema” for lunch, which was fantastic. Quite the successful adventure.



The quick re-cap of our journeys post-Naso is that we visited a fair trade banana plantation in Changinola, where I realized that even fair trade standards are not perfect and therefore I will never buy a regular Chiquita banana ever again, and then we toured a sustainable cacao farm where I learned that cacao fruit is alien-like but absolutely delicious.



After Changinola, we crossed the border to Costa Rica via the sketchiest wooden, rotting bridge I’ve ever crossed on foot while carrying all of my belongings on my back.


In Costa Rica we stayed in homestays for a few days in a rural farming area and it was like a mini-vacation. We had coffee three times a day, swam in the most gorgeous river I’ve ever seen, took an afternoon siesta, watched dubbed movies at night,  and played dominoes with our host dad before going to bed around 9pm. He was quite the storyteller and welcomed us to his house with various stories of how people have threatened him so they can cut down the forest on his land to sell the wood, so I was a little concerned that we might be poisoned while we were there by some bitter neighbor, but other than that, it was like paradise.


Then we toured EARTH University and wow! It was as if someone decided to take my dream university and make it reality. They teach all sorts of sustainable farming and development courses with students from all over the world and I fell in love with it. I am even considering applying for an internship there after graduation from Villanova to study sustainable agriculture and development. Here are some photos of their organic garden and the campus, which were both absolutely gorgeous.




After Costa Rica, we took a tiny plane back to Panama City where we had a few days to prepare ourselves for our ISP. One of those days we took a day trip to Barro Colorado Island, where there is another Smithsonian research station and we finally got to go on a nature hike where we actually saw wild animals, including lots of adorable agouties! And I am still in awe of this 300 year old tree!





TodayI get to meet all the other farmers in GORACE and I’m excited and nervous and just hope I can get to the meeting location without getting lost this time!

Friday, April 5, 2013

Bocas del Toro and the Naso Territory




It’s truly overwhelming and wonderful how many new experiences I’ve had in just a few weeks. Last week I snorkeled off of Caribbean islands at the Smithsonian Tropical Research Institute (STRI), and then I spent the past two days living in the Naso indigenous community along Río Teribe.

Our schedule at STRI was crazy, but snorkeling was an incredible experience. The water in the Caribbean was so clear and the reefs were much more diverse than those in the Pacific. We would go out every morning and practice identifying species in the field, collect samples to bring back to the lab, or do transect surveys of sea grass beds. It was fun to be able to look just a few feet below you and see a whole different world brimming with life. I held a sea cucumber and it was the strangest feeling. I also held sea biscuits, starfish, and sea urchins and examined mangrove roots and dead coral to study all of the crazy worms and invertebrates that live in them. My favorite memory was on the third day after doing a difficult transect survey in extremely choppy waters. We stopped by a beautiful mangrove island surrounded by reef and swam for about an hour among huge schools of sardines and all different types of coral. It was like a scene from Finding Nemo! On the boat ride back to the research center, the sun shone through the clouds after being hidden all day and it couldn’t be more perfect.


We also watched a movie called “Paraíso for Sale” about how the indigenous Ngobe land in Bocas del Toro is being illegally taken by companies to build tourist attractions. I encourage you all to watch this short film, as it fully explains the plight of the Ngobe in Bocas. I made me realize the importance of doing your research when you are a tourist to make sure you’re not supporting an unsustainable or destructive economy. At the end of the film there was a surprise guest speaker and it ended up being Feliciano, the Ngobe community organizer who led the fight for indigenous rights in the documentary. 

It was incredibly moving to have such a powerful and determined person standing in front of us after learning about his struggle. He introduced himself with a story about an ant hill. At first all the ants worked together and the ant hill thrived. Then a grasshopper came and destroyed everything. The ants scattered, certain that such tiny ants could never overcome the giant grasshopper. However the ants soon realized that they were many and the grasshopper was just one. So they united and chased the grasshopper away in order to save their anthill. Despite seemingly insurmountable odds, he retains such hope and perseverance. It is completely appalling that a lack of proper enforcement has resulted in the illegal selling and purchasing of the Ngobe’s reserved land (called a “comarca” in Spanish). After learning about the Ngobe’s struggle for their rights, I was eager for our visit to the Naso territory to see how they dealt with such development problems.

When we left the island of Colon where the research station was in Bocas, it was funny to realize that I was no longer terrified of the boat ride back to the mainland as I had been on the way there. Instead I nearly fell asleep from exhaustion. We had spent the whole week waking up early and spending the whole day swimming and then listening to lectures until late in the evening. Even though we got off for the morning on Easter Sunday to go to the local mass we then snorkeled in the afternoon and had a lecture until 10pm! I felt like I was running on empty upon my arrival to the Naso territory, but everything I saw there captivated me.


We traveled to the community on small hand-made canoes with makeshift motors to propel them up the shallow but turbulent river. There were times when our drivers had to get out and push the canoes because the river was so shallow and at times it seemed like we weren’t moving at all against the strong current despite the motor being at full speed. Then we arrived at a large riverbank and carried our bags uphill for 30 minutes to the center of the community on a path that was a mixture of sidewalk, fallen trees, and mud. Once at the community center we divided into homestays and then walked with them to their homes scattered throughout the forest. My homestay parents were Eduin, the coordinator of all eco-tourism activities in the community, and Carina and they had three adorable children: Geral, Maijori, and Edua. Geral was the big brother who cared for his siblings and led us around the house and taught me some card games. Maijori was actually the first person I met when coming off the boat. She ran over to my boat, asked for my lifejacket and then used it as a makeshift umbrella against the rain. I told her my name and she proceeded to skip up the trail to her house repeating it over and over again, “Mi-chelle, Mi-chelle, Mi-chelle!” I was shocked to see that we had to trek through at least four sizable streams and slosh through ankle deep mud to get from the center of town, where the school was, to get to my family’s house. Maijori had to take off her school skirt at one point and continued walking in her underwear so she wouldn’t dirty her uniform. Of course, since she couldn’t dirty her school shoes, she did the whole trip barefoot. I was struggling along in my Chacos, getting pebbles painfully scrunched between my toes, and almost falling on my face in the mud – I still can’t believe a barefoot five-year-old makes that trip practically skipping five times a week! At the house we met baby Edua, a 10-month-old infant who at first was terrified of us and then just continued staring. My heart melted every time I realized I was being silently studied by those gorgeous, curious, brown eyes. 



Their houses were raised on stilts but had only curtains for doors and were made entirely out of wood. The first night we stayed up late in the dark talking with Eduin about eco-tourism in the community, struggles against hydroelectric dams being built, the preservation of their Naso language, and how their school only goes until sixth grade and then most people stop because the nearest high school is in Changinola, which is a 2 hour canoe ride downstream.


On the second day we visited their garden of traditional medicinal plants. We were allowed to enter only after they had burned a special root that would cleanse all visitors and ensure that the medicines would work if we touched them. Then we learned how to wash our hands with a leaf called “hoja jabón” (soap leaf) that produced thick suds when rubbed together in water. They had everything from anti-venom for snake bites to remedies for ear infections.  When we walked back to the community center I took advantage of some down time to talk with a woman named María who had lived there for fifty years  and told me of how the houses and the community have changed since her childhood. Then we saw the traditional Dance of the Tiger that they do whenever they kill a “tiger” (most likely a puma or jaguar) so that its spirit will rest and not haunt the community. They asked us to join them in the Dance of the Serpent, which was a lot of fun! 



After that we had free time to play with the kids, and me and some other students started a small game of tag which quickly escalated until all of the kids in the community were sprinting around and giggling hysterically as we chased them. I fell epically twice and even stepped in some cow poop, but that was the most fun I have had in a long time. I’ll never forget the sheer joy on the kids’ faces as they quickly darted out of my way. At some point, I cut my foot and all the kids accompanied me to put a Band-Aid on it (which I felt bad about because I knew they would never have access to such luxuries for such relatively small cuts). But of course, they still wanted to play – so I started a game of Simon Says. A couple of minutes in I realized that they could care less about the rules of the game and just enjoyed imitating me, so I rolled with it and together we touched our toes and acted like monkeys and hopped on one foot…no matter what I said they always cracked up as if it was the funniest joke in the world. Finally, after more than two hours of this I sat down to talk with Rafael, Eduin’s brother, and he told me all about how people usually made a living working on their small farms or making artisan crafts out of local fruits and nuts. Then we walked the 30 minute hike back to their house for dinner, where I found Carina sick to her stomach after little Edua had been sick earlier.  When Eduin returned we stayed up late into the night, chatting in the darkness, sitting on the floor of their outdoor kitchen. It was fascinating to hear him talk about how the Naso often lose their traditional names when they register with the government and have to choose traditional Spanish names instead. He also told us that his grandfather told him white men were evil, but now that the town is becoming more “civilized” (he used that word, which both shocked and saddened me) he saw the importance of inviting foreigners there to share their culture and their story.



The strangest thing was being in a place where a language was spoken that I understood none of: Naso. I learned a few words, such as the proper greeting, “Miga” and response, “Cobe,” and I picked up on a few phrases that were repeated often such as “Curubde,” which is the equivalent of “Mira or Escucha” in Spanish. But being in a household where they could speak over my head with me having no idea what was going on was a little unsettling and from now on I will try to completely eliminate speaking English with other students around Panamanians because I understand how unsettling that can be.



The next morning we left very early to go down to the Río Teribe where traditional rafts made of bamboo, balsa wood, and rope were waiting to take us back to Changinola downstream. Each was directed by a “palanquero” who used a long bamboo stick to steer the raft through the shallow rapids. It was like something out of a movie or a legend as we all calmly drifted downstream, sitting on rafts that just hovered about the water. Then the first set of rapids came and I fell off and had to be dragged back on by our palanquero, thankfully I caught my glasses. After that I held on tighter but still managed to fall off a second time at another set of rapids. The third time was the most terrifying however, because our raft got caught in a small whirlpool between the rocky riverbank and a fallen bamboo tree. It took two other boats to get our boats’ passengers safely out of the swirling current. That time when I fell off it was not my fault as the boat hit a branch and promptly capsized and suddenly I found myself rushing downstream in my lifejacket only to be grabbed by another palanquero nearby. It was absolutely terrifying but also quite hysterical because I was the only person of our whole group who ever fell off the rafts.




I wish we could have stayed there longer, but I also know in the back of my mind that I could not have lasted there much longer. It took me a day just to figure out how to use their latrine correctly (essentially it consisted of logs laid across a hole in the ground). This visit made me think about how insane it is that I live in a three-story house in a suburb of Long Island, with manicured lawns, and paved roads, and 24 hour stores, while these families live in wooden huts in the middle of the jungle with almost impassible mud trails, and the nearest store an hour hike and a 2 hour boat ride away. I’ll never forget that place and I hope to be able to visit other indigenous communities in the future.


Now we’re staying in a hotel in Changinola before leaving for Costa Rica on Saturday and our independent projects start in just two weeks!