Close of Service Video

Close of Service Movie  

After every Peace Corps service, it is my tradition to make a short “highlight reel” of my time in-country. After watching it, I realize how very superficial it is. It’s just the headlines of events of my service. And, as we know, most of the real living of life is done between the headlines.

So it is with me. Some events which touched me deeply – like the whole Jaqui / Elsa incident or sharing cookies with Sarita or just being in love with nature and life while waiting for the bus or the many bus conversations – didn’t even make the cut.

Sometimes it seems to us volunteers that Peace Corps only cares about the headlines – the projects completed and number of people affected. The truth is that much of what we do is not quantifiable or measurable. Nor may the results even be known for many years. The Peace Corps volunteer who told Lydia that she could drive a bus if she wanted to, had no idea of the remarkable outcome of that statement and example.

I ‘ve spent the last week visiting all the villages and people that I’ve served in the Torti and Darien areas to say Good-Bye and give my little photo gifts. I don’t know how it happens so quickly, but I’ve grown quite fond of and attached to many of these wonderful folks. Maybe it’s an attitude of open-ness and willingness to make new connections. In any case, all the small moments with them – like getting to Curti early, so I can have morning coffee and cookies with dear Leo and play with his puppy while we chat – come flooding back in a surge of emotion.

While I’m proud of the headlines, the good I’ve done and the friends I have helped here in Panama, it is those small moments that are the most precious to me. I can always go back and watch the Highlight Reel, but those small special moments and times are the ones I’ll keep safe in my heart.

click here to watch movie (3 min)

Since “Bimbo” has no brothers or sisters to play with, his Mom fills that role very nicely. I love to watch these two roll on the grass and play/fight. It makes me a little sad that most dogs in the US and elsewhere will never know to joy of romping with their real doggie families.

click to watch doggie play

I thought I might have a mouse who’d been eating my bananas. Turns out it was a bat. Actually three bats ( mice with wings) took turns attacking the single banana – very courteous, these bats.

click to watch slo-mo bats eating banana

That's All Folks......

Cool boats shuttle guests around the islands

Coco Blanco island where I stayed

My guest cottage - very rustic and simple

the island sand is raked every morning

San Blas Islands Vacation

With the Piriati water line sand filters now on line and the last of the Global Brigades volunteers gone back home, my work here in Torti is done. All projects complete, all expectations met or exceeded and all tray tables in their upright and locked position. Sounds like a good time for vacation before heading home for 10 weeks.

I’ve been wanting to visit the San Blas islands for many reasons – the name San Blas (Saint Blaze) is special to me since I lived on the island near San Blas in Mexico, it’s the business and population center of the Kuna Yala indigenous reservation and there is plenty of warm Caribbean water and tropical sand.

They say that getting there is half the fun and in this case it’s true. The 40 Km road from the PanAm Hwy to the Port of Carti. click to see road video Twist and turn and burn, almost as good as an E ticket at Disneyworld. And in a late model Lexus, it was a very comfortable ride.

Unlike the Kuna of the Magugandi Comarca, who have a huge trust fund from the Bayano Dam displacement, the Kuna of the Yala depend largely on tourism for financial support and have sadly given up their simple lifestyle of hunter gatherers to service the tourism industry. There are 4 primary residential islands and about 30 islands that support tourism, all controlled by the tribal leadership, which seems pretty well organized, though the tribe has licensed a couple of new upscale resorts.

To see all photos click here

This includes a fleet of large 80 HP launches that shuttle workers, supplies, building materials and tourists between the Port and the various tourist islands. Many of the islands have a few simple rustic (very) huts, a common bathroom and a restaurant. They are almost interchangeable so it really doesn’t matter what island you stay on. The exceptions are two 4/5 star resorts, which the Kuna are ill-equipped to manage. Other islands are reserved for day visits and have games, snorkel gear, etc available. A few islands have only a restaurant. Two islands are purely “gift shops” full of some Kuna art, but mostly Chinese tourist crap. The shuttle boats make it easy to move between islands.

I visited several of the islands and stayed on Coco Blanco. They had a series of solar panels as well as 3 small Honda generators. The electrical distribution system is just wires hanging between the palm trees. Water comes from a shallow well in the center of the island, which is pumped up to a big storage tank above the common bathrooms and showers. The water is not perfectly sweet, but certainly good enough for showers. But I digress into technical matters.

There were nice reefs all around the island in 5 to 10 feet of water and an old ship wreck for touristy flavor. Certainly not as spectacular or well-populated with gorgeous fish as Belize or Bahamas, but still crystal clear Caribbean water at just the right temperature for extended snorkel or dive sessions. The sand is not the perfectly white fine stuff that I saw in Bocas, but warm and soft and fit my toes just perfectly.

The food was good, but only 2 items on the menu for lunch and dinner (fish or chicken) – both were outstanding. Breakfast was a nice omelet and fat tortilla with coffee. If you want the coffee without sugar, you must ask. The clientele was a mostly young international set – I met folks from Russia, France, Argentina, Spain, Canada, US and a middle-aged Mexican couple. Of course, the main conversation topic was … Trump. Among the guests, the disdain for this man was unanimous.

The cabins are simple and rustic to the max – just 3 single mattresses on raised platforms with a sand floor. No AC or fan, but the cool sea breeze made things comfortable. No electricity in the huts and only a few lights so you can find the bathrooms at night.

I loved the place, the island, the company, the water, reefs and sand, but some folks might feel the San Blas island experience a bit too rustic.

This will likely be my last blog before I start my next assignment in Bocas del Toro. Y'all have a great summer. See you in September.......

Sarita

This is the little girl that lives down the street. She is the daughter of one of the outstanding mechanics / body workers who have their shop there. Every morning when I pass her house, if she is up and sees me she comes out, smiles, waves and says “Hola Gringo”. And I smile, wave and say “Hola Sarita.” It’s always the same and always starts my day off nicely.

In the afternoon when I come home and have cookies in my bag, I’ll stop and offer her one. She has yet to say No. Our ritual for this is : Sarita exclaims “galleta”. I give it to her and she says “Gracias, Gringo”. I say “Es mi placer” (which I like much better than “por nada” – what does that mean anyway – for nothing) and our afternoon ritual is done.

Except if I didn’t get any cookies and she sees me, she just gives me the hairy eyeball look, crosses her arms and I slink on by – shamed by a very young girl. Her mother has told her that my name is Goyo, but she insists it is Gringo. Ladies are always right.

It’s not much, but it is something I kinda look forward to. And something I will remember, Maybe Sarita will, too.

Last Projects

Getting there is half the fun - waist deep in the Big Muddy

One last big project before I leave : reconnect the Piriati sand filters. Color it DONE !!

The sand filters clean all the sediment from dirty water by trapping it in the facets of a special “volcanic sand” (which is really crushed lava). And out flows nice clean water, though it still may have bacteria, etc. The catch is that, just like your pool filter, you have to frickin clean it every once in a while. This is done by simply reversing the water flow and letting the dirt flow away. In Piriati, no one had backflushed for over a year and the filters became totally clogged. Nobody knew how to do the back-flush, so they just cut the filters out of the system and let $5000 worth of equipment waste away. And every year, when the rains came, the water got dirty / cloudy and folks had to let it sit in buckets for a day or more to let the dirt settle out.

the cows leave a unique pattern in the mud

The new Water Committee called Bullshit and asked me how to get the filters back on line. Today we did just that. We had a team of 8 workers, who schlepped materials and tools over the 4 Km trail of mud and river crossings (we don’t need no stinking bridges) up to the tanks. We were joined by a lovely Aussie hydrologist who is hoping to introduce wells into the area, but I digress.

the art of bending PVC pipe over an open fire

It was, quite frankly, a nasty fight with the magical Panama mud and water. We dug out the old tubes, made the needed plumbing changes and cleaned the worst of the dirt out of the filters. This included a couple of “campo” tube bends, using burning palm fronds to soften the pipe for bending. Pipe connections tested and held the pressure well. We’ll let the filters back-flush for at least a day or so. The boys will return tomorrow to agitate the sand and get even more dirt out. But, the system is a GO !! Piriati can return to nice clean water. As we were wrapping up, the dark rains clouds were gathering and the thunder started rolling off the surrounding hills.

Two last connections and we're done

By the time we got back to town, we were soaked to the bone, as much from rain as from the river crossings. And still, as I bid my companeros adios, I found a big grin across my face, feeling the satisfaction of a team effort well completed that will be a nice change for the 700 residents of Piriati tomorrow afternoon. Pouring rain or bright sunshine – I LOVE my “job”.

The bucket brigade

And one last fling with the Global Brigades volunteers before I go. This group was from Western Kentucky, yet none of them had ever used an outhouse – stereotype destroyed. We put the final touches on the first 6 Bano units in Curti and gave each family “hands on” training. I was pleased to find that many of the

Opening ceremony with a happy family

families had paid attention at our first meeting and knew the drill. Some had already been using their composting toilets (correctly) for over a week. Anyway, we had a little “Opening Ceremony” at each unit, so the kids liked that.

Ulpiano, Cecilio & me - love these guys

It was also my last time with all my dear professional friends from Global Brigades. It has been my honor and joy to work with these wonderful and supportive men for the last year. They have never let me down and we have had some good times together. Saying Good-Bye to these beautiful guys was hard and heartfelt.

But when you live the migrant life, saying good bye is part of the package. I’ve learned to just allow the moment and emotion of gratitude for friendships to well up and be honored., but not dwell on the “what might have been” and cherish the “what was”. And I know that behind every good-bye is a “Hello” just waiting to happen.

In the early Morning Rain

Graceful egret early morning flight

To most folks, getting up and out the door at 5am in a light drizzle, to walk ½ mile to wait at the bus stop is not on the list of great ways to start the day. But, to me and some others that time becomes a gift to be savored – that sacred quiet time of the morning to see, feel, hear and smell all the joys of the world around us.

Walking down the misty road, the air is cool and would be refreshing save for the dense humidity. The little frogs are the first to call to me from their liquid lairs in the drainage ditches at either side of the road click to hear frogs. I can just make out the little lumps of foam that contain the seeds of their next generation. Then, at a much higher pitch, the crickets chirp – a welcome change from the screeching katydids of the dry season. Out in the depths of the teak forest, the Howler monkeys call their sad wailing call that could only sound good to another Howler.

Parrots have broad wings like British Spitfire

In the gathering light, I can just begin to make out the shapes of the birds flying overhead. Parrots and parakeets squawking loudly click to hear the parrots, always flying in pairs, their broad short wings remind me of the British Spitfire. Silently soar the egrets above, long graceful wings all flying in perfect formation. And the myriad small songbirds that fill any empty space between the distant and inevitable roosters. It is hard for me to imagine why anyone would be plugged into an iPod at such a time.

In between the bird calls, the dripping thud of raindrops playing, drumming on the huge teak leaves of the forest. The sky is just getting light to the east and the frequency of traffic, mostly big trucks at this hour, has increased. Off it the distance, before I can even see its lights, I hear the high whine of a Toyota Coaster bus engine approaching. I wave my arm, the driver dims his lights and my quiet morning time is done. Only to be continued at some later date..

Lydia Update (and a mission)

On my way back from work in Curti today, Lydia (the first woman bus driver in these parts, maybe in Panama) was my driver. I told her about posting her photo and accomplishment on Facebook. And I thought she was going to cry. She said that American women were her heroes.

So, to all my American women friends, I say THANK YOU for being the trailblazers, the women who led the way for the rest of the women of the world. For that you can be honestly proud. I applaud all of you.

Then, Lydia noticed the Peace Corps logo on my cap and she lit up. “Cuerpo de Paz !!” she exclaimed. It turns out that a Peace Corps volunteer had lived near her small town close to Agua Fria when she was 10 or 11 years old. That volunteer was named Katy and told the girls that they could be anything they wanted to be. Obviously, the message stuck with Lydia, as she became something that was unheard of, if not impossible, at the time. It is the classic example of how what we PC volunteers do and say can be every bit as important as the technical assistance we give.

I will be in the Peace Corps office in 3 weeks and I am making it my solemn mission to track down “Katy” and let her know this outcome of her service, so many years (15 to 20?) ago. I think she deserves that.

Bimbo, the boy puppy from next door, is the explorer in the dog family. Today, he finally found his way up the steps and onto my porch. He was well rewarded.

More Panama Hat styles.

Global Brigades volunteers from Oklahoma State came to Curti and helped start 6 new Bano units.

The mud was unreal

Panama Reading List:

Path Between the Seas – McCullough

Darien Gap – Mitchinson

Panama Hat Trail – Miller

Phantom Gringo Boat - Kene

Riding with Pablo

Riding with Pablo

I enjoy talking with strangers on the bus. I learn a lot that way. Yesterday, my seat-mate was not a stranger, but my friend Pablo from Ipeti. Our friendship started last year and was instant – we share a similar world view, work ethic and love of construction. A few times, we have come to a similar solution independently, making our collaborations a joy. Not to mention the fact that he has THE best collection of tools in the area and lets me borrow them. I have always enjoyed watching him work with the Global volunteers, as he talks to them the whole time about his life and the construction they are doing. He is a great teacher to the young masons.

So, it was a treat to spend some time learning more about Pablo on a more personal basis. The most interesting fact was that Pablo is a grandson of the last “Grand Chief” of the Embera Tribe in eastern Panama selected by bloodline. His wife is also a grand-daughter and Pablo’s cousin. After his grandfather, Chiefs were elected, as they are today. Pablo was interested to hear about my children and grandchildren. He and his wife never had children. He has been president of the village and the water committee. His wife is one of the leading craft artists. She and my friend Elsa are the two ranking female elders in Ipeti.  He has loved building things since he was a boy and was a foreman on the Bayano Dam project. He says the Americans “paid him LOTS of money”. He is happy because he works only because he loves it, not for the money. Amen to that dear friend.

Pablo was born in 1946 and has seen some huge changes in the Torti area. He remembers the time before the PanAm Hwy, when the only route to Panama City involved a long-boat ride through the rivers that now form Lake Bayano. When they built the big bridge that now spans the Lake and the heavy equipment rolled in, many people were fearful and wanted to stop the road construction. Many fires were started and several workers were killed.

Then came the deforestation and burning of the jungle to make way for cattle ranches, big chicken farms and later teak plantations. First came the loggers in HUGE trucks and equipment. Some of the virgin old growth jungle trees were “4 men across” and had to be quartered just to fit on the trucks. After that came the fires. Pablo says the sky was black and the ashes rained down on everything for days. They could see the lights from huge fires all around them at night and were sure they would be swallowed up in the flames. As soon as that started, he says the rivers died and the water became dirty. They had to let the water settle in water tanks and barrels for weeks and then scoop off the top for drinking water. Then the government built the current water systems, which worked great for a year or two and then started to fall apart. They also had to switch to eating chicken and beef since the fish were all gone.

The next great event was when USAID built the Bayano Dam and hydroelectric project. Pablo started as a laborer , but was promoted to foreman. Before the dam, river travel was a way of life for the Embera. There were lots of “big fat fish”. From his description they were long thin fish with lots of bones, usually eaten in a soup. He says the tilapia that were introduced into the lake pushed the old fish up rivers. Everybody likes the tilapia better.

Through it all, it seems Pablo has rolled with the punches and maintained his equilibrium and sense of humor.

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