I'm two weeks into my two year journey. My body is riddled by bug bites and one of my toes on my right foot needs some R&R. All in all, things are going swimmingly.
I and another nearby volunteer, Jon, have hit the ground running. We've spent the last two weeks picking the brains of two amazing volunteers (Matt and Alicia) who are closing out their service in the region. We've been in full swing building valve boxes and bridges to try to bring the aqueducts in my community and Jon's community to a close. Jon's site is just getting started while I'm closing out the punch list on mine. Usually volunteers take months to get to the point where Jon and I are. We've been lucky enough to be involved with water committee meetings, shoveling concrete, sweating hombro a hombro with our community counterparts.
In other news, I've been working with the community on my new digs. It's been an interesting process buying the trees for my home (don't worry, I'll be doing a reforestation project later in my service), sending cash with the boat drivers to pick up gasoline for the chainsaw guy, etc. (Quick side note: There aren´t any mills around to buy lumber. Instead there are guys that cut perfect boards freehand with chainsaws. I know. Unbelievable.) The community wants to build my house by the end of the year. I´m not going to complain. When I get back to site, I'll be swinging hammers, cutting boards, and laying penca (thatch roofing material). One other key aspect of home construction is the junta. I´ll be paying labor through food. That means buying rice, beans, and chicken for the workers. The women in the community will then cook up a big feast while the men build the home. (Quick side note: Gender roles are firmly ingrained in the culture. Everyone gets a kick out of me doing my own laundry.)
The other day I had the pleasure of going out to the finca (family farm). Fincas usually consist of starchy foods that either grow on trees or in the ground. The tree variety includes bananas and plantains, both of which they boil green before maturing. When a banana becomes mature accidentally, they feed it to the pigs/Austin. They also have pifa. Pifa is sort of like a red potato that grows on palm trees. They eat it after boiling and also grind it up to make a chicha (juice type drink). When I first got to my site, I discovered that chicha de pifa may be one of the grossest things in the world. I've since controlled my gag reflexes and, after mild to heavy dehydration, would gladly down a glass.
Ground variety of finca fare includes, yucca, ñame, and daichin. We also harvested cacao. Unfortunately, all the cacao seeds where going to be sold so I´m going to have to find another family for my cacao fix. After we had harvested an unbelievable amount of food, we divied up the mochilas (rope sacks) and headed the 45 minutes back to the community. I'm not sure if it was an initiation ritual or what, but I ended up with the biggest sack by far. They also carry the mochilas so that the handle is strapped on your head and the weight falls in some weird geometry that is sure to hurt your head, neck, and back. Needless to say, the 45 minutes back to site where fun. When I got back to the community, I was greeted by cheers from the women in town, who are the ones that normally bear that burden. It was a great way to build confianza with that demographic. The grandmothers in the community nodded their head in approval and spoke amongst themselves in Ngabere. I think I'm in.
Ground variety of finca fare includes, yucca, ñame, and daichin. We also harvested cacao. Unfortunately, all the cacao seeds where going to be sold so I´m going to have to find another family for my cacao fix. After we had harvested an unbelievable amount of food, we divied up the mochilas (rope sacks) and headed the 45 minutes back to the community. I'm not sure if it was an initiation ritual or what, but I ended up with the biggest sack by far. They also carry the mochilas so that the handle is strapped on your head and the weight falls in some weird geometry that is sure to hurt your head, neck, and back. Needless to say, the 45 minutes back to site where fun. When I got back to the community, I was greeted by cheers from the women in town, who are the ones that normally bear that burden. It was a great way to build confianza with that demographic. The grandmothers in the community nodded their head in approval and spoke amongst themselves in Ngabere. I think I'm in.
We took a few days off from aqueduct design and construction to celebrate Panama's independence day. We had great food and activities with the kids. Kids had sack races and balanced lemons on spoons. It felt as if I were in a weird dream about July 4th, but there were palm trees and I didn´t really know anyone.
Other excitement included some flooding. Don't worry, these folks have it down. They´ve been living along this river for a long, long time. There are different trails to take and somehow they have something that resembles an emergency action plan that must have organically evolved over time. I feel extremely safe, am living well above flood level, and have some cool videos of raging water. I missed capturing an entire tree floating down the river and my camera couldn't pick up the sound of boulders clanking under the water. Let´s just say the river is mighty powerful and watching it roar was a lot like going to the Saturday night movies (drive-in movies, in a convertible, in a torrential downpour).
Yesterday, we hiked to Bisira to meet with a doctor that wants to work with my community. It was a long hike to find out she wasn´t there that day. But it was also good to know the trail. There are communities along the trail where I can potentially do well projects to provide clean water. It's an interesting prospect that I'm going to explore over the next year, with hopes of construction sometime next year. We got to meet the host family of Matt and Alicia. They were some of the nicest people. We also had an amazing dinner. Simple fried dough and pork. Doesn't sound incredible, but it was.
To be honest, the first few days were kind of rough. I wasn't sure if I had made the right decision. Two years. That's a long time to be away from friends, family, things that I'm nominally good at. But then things have started to pick up. Kids call my name from their houses. "Oti, Oti." It's a great feeling working with community members building bridges, figuratively and literally. I'm going to miss everyone and everything back home, but am looking forward to making a new home here in this strange, new place.
So this post was somewhat scattered, much like my thoughts. Overall, I'm really excited about what the next two years will mean. I'll be helping form water committees and build aqueducts, both of which will help provide clean water for years to come. The capacity building side is important, so I'll be working with community members on aqueduct maintenance and collecting dues to ensure they have funds for the future. I hope that my community can serve as a model for other communities along the river, where community members help train other communities. That's the goal at least. We'll see how the next two years play out. If I do end up being successful, whatever that means, it will be in large part due to the role previous volunteers have played in the region, especially the work of Matt and Alicia.
