Every year Peace Corps Panama puts out a calendar to raise funds for small volunteer projects like world maps or instructional seminars in the community. The calendar is full of photos taken by volunteers during service. Photos range from the skyline of Panama city to the white sands of San Blas to campesinos relaxing after a hard day's work.
My kids love the calendars. I took last year's calendar and cut up the photos so that they could pick one to take home. In doing so, something very interesting happened. I got to see what type of photos were the most sought after by the children.
The kids passed up the photos of sloths and toucans, mountain vistas and tropical sunsets, and went straight for Panama City and photos of Latinas in their traditional polleras. And that makes sense. If I were to take a calendar photo, I'd probably pass up an image of a lighthouse or the Golden Gate Bridge for an image of coconut fronds falling into crystal clear waters. In other words, we all appreciate what we don't have.
When I talk with community members about how beautiful it is here, they seem puzzled. They nod and smile, but I can tell their heart isn't in it. When I ask what they think is beautiful, they list off Panama City or Kankitu, the nearby jungle metropolis. To them, the buildings and sidewalks are beautiful. And as as strange as that first seems, it makes perfect sense. We want to escape to the countryside for a break from the noise and concrete. Here the trees are buildings, the river the highway.
This is an interesting dynamic, our discontent, the endless quest for the greenest grass. In our pursuit of happiness, why is it all too easy to ignore all that we already have in front of us? Maybe I'm taking license in projecting my own tendencies in looking for trends between Ngabes and Americans, but I can't help but feel like we sometimes overlook the beauty of the here and now. Appreciation is interrupted by keeping up with the Joneses. Contentedness is clouded by a desire for something more.
I'd love to have some closing paragraph that ties this mental vignette with a neat little bow, but I think this idea falls into a growing list of unanswered questions. I guess the takeaway is acknowledging this tendency and striving to appreciate all that we have with the same verve and panache as our longing for what we don't have.
