CHANGE OF VENUE

For those of you who follow this blog by email subscription, I will be posting my Peace Corps experiences in Tarapoto, Peru on my revived blog "Pondering Peace in Peru."

You can subscribe to that blog by visiting the site HERE and entering your email address in the box at top right, under the banner heading.

Thanks for your continued interest and support !!

CHEERS,
Greg/Goyo/RG

The Adventure Continues

Rio Cumbaza flows through Tarapoto on its way to the Amazon.
The rivers (and airplanes) are the only transportation east
from Tarapoto 

Peace Corps has once again invited me to serve as a water and sanitation specialist – this time, in Tarapoto, Peru – in the Amazon Basin. I’ll be the first Volunteer ever sent there, though many others, including some of my WASH 18 group served in Chachapoyas, about 4 hours away and high (7,000 ft) on the eastern side of the Andes. I’ll be at about 900 ft altitude, 1800 miles (straight line) from the mouth of the Amazon River. I begin my new assignment in mid January, 2019.

I’m excited about the assignment and at the prospect of returning to my beloved Peru and all my friends and host families there. I’m flattered that the PC Peru staff reached out and invited me back for another adventure and opportunity to serve the good folks of Peru.

The Beaver is now my mobile home, though with gas mileage
of only 4.3 MPG, I don't travel far.

Meanwhile, I am thoroughly enjoying my time here in beautiful Fort Myers, FL, getting to spend some long-overdue time with my son and 4 grandchildren. Alden found a very comfortable Beaver 31 RV, which I bought. He also got me a spot in the RV park right across the street from the firehouse where he works. I have a scanner that alerts me to his calls, so I can step outside and cheer the lads on, as they head out for emergency calls. I also get to eat dinner with the fire crew on occasion – a great bunch of men. When Alden was called to an emergency at my neighbor’s trailer, I got to see him in action – so proud of him, what he does and how he does it.

The Beaver kitchen includes a microwave/convection oven and a dishwasher

Plenty of space in the Beaver living room

It’s also been a joy to explore this area of Florida, after living exclusively on the Right Coast for so many years. The many rivers, bays, estuaries and islands have captivated me, though the beaches and surf are somewhat lacking. I arrived just at the end of a Red Tide and algae bloom, which cast a great pall on the areas beaches. I’ve visited Sanibel/ Captiva and most of the other areas around here, with Pine Island and Bokeelia being my favorite spots. The mango plantations and “Old Florida” rural feel are a welcome respite from the mega condos and over-development of the “other” coast.

Alden and the kiddles come to visit

I’ve visited the shrimp fleet and sampled their pink delights, learned about the gladiolus bulb industry which dominated the area from the 1940’s to 1980, and about the history of the beautiful Calusa Indians, who populated the area and fended off 2 incursions by the famed Ponce de Leon, though eventually succumbing to their universal gift of European disease.

 

Entertaining some of my new neighbors

Alden's firehouse Engine and Rescue 72 are right across the street

Dinner with Alden and his great crew at the firehouse

Grampa introducing the kids to the microscopic world

My angelic grand-daughters

Lover's Beach, south of Ft Myers beach

The community is proud of their beaches. I've helped with
two beach clean-ups since I arrived

Thoroughly enjoying my time until January, when……

The Adventure Continues.

Close of Service in Panama

One of the "perks" of being the oldest guy in the room, is you get called on to make little speeches. Here is my text from today's COS (close of service) ceremony here in Panama after all had "banged the gong" and officially ended their fine service to the Peace Corps.

Goyo Address

27 months ago, you all made a bold decision to step out of your cozy little comfort zones and walk into the unknown world of the Peace Corps. There may have been a few times that you questioned the wisdom of that decision. But, because of that decision and your service here in Panama, you have each and every one, made the world a better place – a healthier place, a safer place, a world with more friendship and peace than existed before you came. Not just because of your technical work, but in the way you represented Americans here and the way you told your friends and family back home about your life and the people here.

Perhaps just as important as your service to others here, is your service to yourselves. You learned a lot about yourselves in the last 2 years – how many creature comforts you can live without, how much rain you can tolerate before going bat shit crazy, how much you can get done and how strong, resourceful and determined you really are. Those are some of the gifts you’ve given yourselves and they are well deserved. Gifts that will serve you for the rest of your lives. You all have every reason to be proud of what you’ve done here – every reason to stand a little taller than when you arrived.

It now is my great honor to welcome you to the very special brotherhood (and sisterhood) of RETURNED Peace Corps Volunteers. Congratulationsand Thank You to you all.
--
If you have the chance, please thank an RPCV for what they've done and what they've given. They don't wear uniforms or carry guns, but their service to America is every bit as real and meaningful as those who do.

CHECKING OUT

Leaving a Peace Corps service is not as simple as just packing up and catching a flight back home. Like any government agency, there is a lengthy procedure to follow at Close of Service (COS).

First and foremost are the full medical and dental exams, to make sure Volunteers are returning healthy and whole. If there are issues, PC will cover the cost of treatments back home. Some of the other COS tasks:

Write your Description of Service, a document detailing service dates and achievements for the PC official archive.

Close your PC bank account, draw the balance down to zero, surrender your debit card and get the certification from the bank.

Settle up any funds owed to or from the PC.

Get clearance from the Grants Coordinator that any grants are closed and settled.

Decide whether to take a free ticket home or $500 and buy your own.

Return any PC issued equipment, like satellite phone or in my case, a PC life jacket (that I never used).

Complete the Safety and Security report, detailing any security issues.

Have your exit interview with your program manager and the Country Director.

Complete a final site report about your site(s).

Attend the COS ceremony, which is sure to raise a tear or two.

Included in the mix are Good-Byes, Thank Yous and appreciations to all the good folks in your site and at the office, who helped make your service a success. For regular PCVs, it’s time for last Farewells with the other PCVs with whom you’ve shared the last 2+ years. Response volunteers, like me, just watch and remember vicariously.

And then, you pack your things and catch that flight home; the proud new owner of the designation “Returned Peace Corps Volunteer”.

Link to Panama Blogs in book form as Word document:

https://www.dropbox.com/s/fwonuiaul178oqu/PC%20PANAMA%20BLOG%20BOOK.docx?dl=0

Peace Corps Staff - An Appreciation

Peace Corps Office Peru

Most folks see the Peace Corps as the Volunteers and the ways we serve our communities. But, there is another group that often goes unseen and unrecognized - The Peace Corps Staff. These are the good people that make it possible for the Volunteers to do what they do. They keep us safe and healthy. They find the communities and housing in which we live. They train us and guide us and make sure we have the tools and support we need to serve our communities.

When I was the ECPA Volunteer Coordinator in Peru, I worked in the Lima office and got to know the staff there on a daily basis. Each and every one of them is dedicated to the Peace Corps mission of making the world a better, healthier, friendlier and more peaceful place. They perform brilliantly and genuinely care about us Volunteers and what we do.

The Volunteers get all the accolades and glory, but PC Staff are the people behind the curtain. Our success is their success, too. They are truly deserving of our thanks and respect, which they earn every day.

Peace Corps Office Panama

8 Years with the Peace Corps

I have just completed the latest chapter of my auto-biography, about my Peace Corps service (to date).

It is far too long (32 pages) to post as a blog, but you can read or download it at:
click here to see chapter

It's just a summary or overview. Far more detail is included in this blog and my Peru blog:  Peru blog link

I may soon have some news about my next Peace Corps assignment.

Give a Man a Fish (My Perspective)

“Give a man a fish and you feed him for a day; teach a man to fish and you feed him for a lifetime.”

The origin of this thought is highly contested. I have seen claims that that the adage is Chinese, Native American, Italian, Indian, or Biblical. Sometimes it is linked to Lao-Tzu, Maimonides, or Mao Zedong. Perhaps because of this universality, it is generally accepted as a truism and good guidance – often used as conservative justification for NOT giving free “hand-outs” to the needy.

The expression generally aligns with the Peace Corps goal of “capacity building” – training people to do a task rather than doing it for them. And, generally, I agree with it. Volunteers are trained to listen and understand what the community needs are and then cooperatively develop an inclusive plan to manifest the community desires or needs. While we will often work along side the community workers, we don’t do all the work ourselves. We train, teach, guide and make friendships as we go. We try to ensure that the project is sustainable in the long term by cooperatively developing a plan of maintenance or schedule of re-training when possible. I’ve been quoted to say “My job as a PCV is to make myself unnecessary.”. If I do things right, my community can carry on without me when I leave. I will have created “capacity” in the community that allows sustainability.

But, in my mind, the title proverb comes with some exceptions and caveats.

Sometimes, it is not enough to teach a man to fish. We must also provide the means for him to fish. What does it serve to teach a man to fish if he has no line or hook? Or if he does not live near any body of water? In my Water and Sanitation service, I have come across several communities which lack the resources to construct a water system. If I bring those resources in from outside via a grant program, I violate the capacity building axiom, but the community gets access to clean water service that was otherwise impossible. I will, of course, build capacity by training the users in proper maintenance, operations, accounting and other topics which will ensure the sustainable use of the system. I have provided the fishing line, hook and lake they needed to catch their fish and taught them how to use them.

Other times, a man might be incapable of learning to fish. An example of this is the design of a community water system. Design involves detailed calculations of pressure, volume and construction knowledge that is generally well above the education level of folks in a rural, third-world community. In such cases, I will make all the design calculations, often with the aid of online calculators to determine design and materials needed. I then make it a custom to show and try to explain them to an (often disinterested) water committee. The community will then do all the work needed to complete the plan carrying thousands of pounds of materials to site, mixing concrete, connecting and burying pipe, etc. But, the design phase is not worth teaching, since once the system is in place, those skills will rarely be used again.

And then sometimes, a man is just starving and needs a fish to eat. Right then. Right there. In those cases, I say throw the truism to the wind. If I have a fish or can arrange to get one, then my moral obligation is the give it to him. It’s just the humanitarian thing to do. An example of this is when I learned that there were 8 disabled folks in my first service site of San Luis de Canete who did not have wheelchairs. All had applied for the government mandated free chair, but none had been delivered after many years. I had the good fortune to connect with fellow Princeton Alumni Bill Farrell (P’77), who was on the board of the Wheelchair Foundation, who found me 8 beautiful wheelchairs in Lima – just for the taking. A generous and kind gift from those who had to those who had not. With the aid of my friend and socio Angel Garcia, we moved those chairs from Lima to San Luis and eight people got their free fish and regained their mobility. The project was not sustainable and I built no capacity. And I did not lose a wink of sleep over it.

So, while we might view the title proverb as ancient wisdom, we need to also acknowledge its flaws. And never lose our humanity or compassion.

Tia Sofia, The Hospital and World Cup Finale

Tia Sofia - a bundle of joy

I headed over to Tia Sofia’s house in an early morning rain, to watch Panama’s last game in the 2018 World Cup against Tunisia – their best hope for a win. I found no Tia, but a small group, praying and led by a woman whose tones are usually reserved for Televangelists. I had the distinct impression that someone had died and stayed outside, until someone came down the street and informed me that Tia was in the hospital, having “fallen” while cooking her breakfast foods the day before.

I forgot the game and walked nervously to the nearby hospital. The place looked deserted, with just old fellow at the front desk, who directed me to Sofia’s room. The hallways, too, were void of activity except for the dull tones of the soccer game, playing in some far-off room. Tia and 3 other patients were packed into a room that was likely meant for 2 and was asleep. So, I walked home to watch the game alone in my room.

Raul Mena is the big regional hospital, part of Panama’s public health system of universal health care. While the care is free, it may not be the best. The facility looked worn and crowded, but quite clean and neat. They must use the same disinfectant as the US, as the place had that distinctive “hospital smell”. Tia had no monitoring equipment attached and the room had no TV. The floors had that 60’s black and white checked tile pattern, with a green lane up the middle.

Moment of joy as Panama scored an early goal against Tunisia

I went back to my apartment to watch the game alone, arriving just in time to see Panama score their first goal. From the reaction of the team and crowd, you’d have thought they had just one the finals. Two Tunisian goals quickly dampened early hopes of a Cup win for Panama, as they lost 2-1 and finished last in their initial Group G. While not a stellar performance in their first-ever World Cup, I will never forget the excited celebrations when they qualified to go to Russia, nor the moment I was moved to tears at their pride as their team took to the World Cup field for the first time and stood for the anthem.

After the game, I went back to the hospital, now in pouring rain, to see Sofia. The place had returned to a normal hospital bustle, but Tia was still asleep. I finally found a cooperative nurse, who explained she was medicated and maybe I could come back that night or in the morning. Her remarks were curt and muddled, but I did hear “heart problem” and “blood clot”, neither of while were encouraging.

I returned last night, to find Tia surrounded by a group of well-wishers, many of whom were clearly praying. She looked dazed and weak. When I shouted out her name, she had to ask someone who it was. I’m not sure if her vision is impaired. This morning’s visit was no more satisfying as she was sleeping again and no more information was forthcoming from the staff.

It saddens me to she this woman, who is normally so vivacious and full of life and joy, laid low like this. But, such is life. It’s also a reminder that Peace Corps service allows us to share in not only the joyous moments, but suffer some not-so-happy ones, as well.

World Cup Game 2 – Panama vs England

It was rainy, grey and overcast this morning, which pretty much set the tone for toady’s game. I went over to my new friend Tia Sofia’s house / empanada factory. She makes huge quantities of empanadas, tortillas (the thick hockey puck kind) and hojaldras (fried bread) every day and sells them to breakfast stands all around town, delivered by a cadre of boys.

The first WC game was standing room only, but today there were only about 15 of us, perhaps due to the nasty weather, the early hour (7am on a Sunday) or being 9 to 1 underdogs with little hope of winning. In any case, the bloom was definitely off the Panamanian rose. Everyone stood and sang the Panama Anthem really loud, but without the hugs, tears and emotion of the first game. Still, I doubt many Americans even stand for the Anthem at home. Even the announcers lacked the enthusiasm of the first game. Some of Sofia’s crew of delivery boys were returning from their routes and joined us. No problem with child labor here.

England scored almost immediately, and the crowd seemed resigned to the eventual outcome. But, Tia kept serving us her delicious empanadas and coffee (with the sugar already in it – the way Panamanians like it) and cheering us up. It also seemed to relax the viewing protocols compared to the first game. Though this was only my second viewing of a soccer game, I think I have discerned the etiquette.
1. Some quiet conversation is allowed, though eyes must never leave the TV screen.
2. Conversation MUST be in some way related to soccer.
3. Everyone stops talking and rises whenever Panama takes a shot on goal.
4. A loud groan is required when they miss.
5. When the Panama goalie stops a shot, standing and loud cheering are required
6. EVERY foul of an opposing player is “fingir” (pretend or fake) and every foul against a Panamanian is a real and violent atrocity. Appropriate gestures and shouts are required.

I still find the whole foul process somewhat comical. Players fall to the ground holding some body part as though it is broken and grimacing so hard it hurts to watch, often waving at officials to notice them When the foul is called, they jump to their feet and smile, as though acknowledging the farce.  This game was chock full of fouls. While my crowd screamed “fingir” and “tramposo” (trickster or fake) at the opposing team, they were quick to smile and wink whenever Gomez – their best “trickster” – drew a foul. As “tramposo” sounds very similar to Trumposo, I may have introduced a new term into the lexicon, much to their delight.

During the long half-time break, I asked around about local feelings on The Invasion, citing my conversation with Jimmy Vegas the day before. One man said it was “very bad”. He had been visiting in the City at the time and tried to leave. Everyone trying to board busses out of town were taken to a holding area near Albrook and not allowed to leave for 6 days, with little food and water and no bathroom facilities, though they were not otherwise abused, they slept in their clothes on the ground. He could hear the constant explosions and fires lit the night sky. But, the majority felt far removed from the Invasion atrocities here in Bocas. “It was a City problem and didn’t concern us.”, was one woman’s response. This feeling of “Two Panamas” – the City vs everyone else is pretty common.

At this point, the score was already 5-0 and Sofia brought out the beer, which was consumed at an alarming rate, considering it was before 8 in the morning. These guys can really put it away. And fast. To my surprise, some folks left after the 6^th English goal. Too bad, as Panama scored their first World Cup goal with 15 minutes left in the match, which greatly animated the crowd and was replayed over and over and over by the clearly partisan announcers. Beer consumption increased accordingly. The final score of 6-1 was a tad embarrassing, but Panama had already saved face in their WC debut with that single goal. Panama is an odds-even match for Tunisia in what will likely be their final 2018 World Cup game on Thursday. It was still raining as I walked home.

Operation Just Cause – Up Close & Very Personal

Panama City slum burns - US Military stops fire and recue

Having spent most of my time in Panama in rural areas away from the City, I never got a sense of lingering animosity towards Americans. Sure, I hear questions about American gun violence, our constant wars and why we would elect a raging racist lunatic as President. But, that is more puzzlement than animosity or dislike. Besides, we came out looking like the Good Guys when we gave Panama the Canal and all its trappings, right?

Any civilians on the streets were sent to holding camps
Anyone fleeing the round-up was shot

This morning, I met a man who did hold a grudge and was determined to explain why, albeit in a very civil tone. His name was “Jimmy” Vegas, a former Colonel in the Panama Defense Force – a paramilitary wing of the National Police, as Panama officially had no military. To start with, his father was an MP with the US Army in the Canal Zone and left his mother and 3 sisters when Jimmy was 12. Beyond that, he was with the PDF during “Operation Just Cause” (which he simply calls The Invasion) and witnessed first-hand the many abuses and violence of the US Military invasion troops.

Panamanians could not understand the needless destruction

He felt the whole invasion was unnecessary, as there were many in the PDF who would have been very willing to help the CIA or Special Forces capture Noriega. In fact, he was part of the attempted coup 2 months before the invasion, but was never discovered. He says the biggest US blunder was a lack of intelligence – not knowing where Noriega was at any given time. Noriega and the PDF knew well in advance that the Invasion was coming and he moved 2 or 3 times a day. Jimmy was told of the Invasion 3 days before it came and was given orders to “stand-down” and give no resistance to US Forces. Why Noriega did not escape, either by boat or air, puzzles him.

He does not begrudge the US for wanting to capture Noriega, but feels that the way they did it was horribly and unnecessarily wrong. While there were some tactical strikes to destroy Noriega’s boats and aircraft, Panamanians were aghast at the huge 29,000+ force that attacked the City with tanks, gunships and RPGs. He watched as thousands of civilians were rounded up and sent to holding camps – basically anyone who was out on the streets, old ladies and children included, many of whom were beaten if they resisted. Some were shot for fleeing.

Just as bad was the property destruction caused. Jimmy was at the PDF HQ when it was attacked. While he escaped with just a broken hand, the attack caused fires to spread rapidly through the shantys of an adjacent poor neighborhood. Even worse, fire and rescue were prevented by the US Military and hundreds of civilians died or were injured and thousands left homeless. There were also 2 civilian apartment complexes that were attacked by gunships for unknown reasons. Many more were injured there.

As the walls closed in on Noriega, he fled to the Vatican Embassy for shelter and the US Military famously used loud rock music to drive him out. No one in the area could sleep for days. Thus, Jimmy views the transfer of the Canal to Panama, not as a gift, but as something paid for by the destruction, deaths and disabilities needlessly caused by the US.

While my “Peace Corps Card” got me off the hook, he was insistent that I let my fellow Americans know what “really” happened – which obligation I have now fulfilled.

Service Summary Video

Some of the Barriada Santos Water Committee show off their new spring catchment (toma)

The community worked really hard, carrying 5000 lbs of
materials, building new tomas and laying almost a mile of
PVC pipe. I'm SO proud of them.

With just 6 weeks left before leaving the beauty of Panama, it's time for my traditional "Service Summary Video". 

700 folks in small rural towns got new or improved water service, 8 communities got water committee and/or community trainings and I got to learn about cacao and banana 

One of the families that got new water service - obviously happy

production first hand. And spend some days on gorgeous white-sand beaches.

Peace Corps service of helping people and promoting friendship and peace is not "work" - it is a joy.

If this video or the blog has in any way inspired you to consider Peace Corps service, I invite you to talk to me or see the website at 
www.peacecorps.gov

To view the video : click here

Panama’s World Cup Debut

I just watched Panama’s first ever World Cup game in a room packed with some 35 Panamanians. I can only describe the experience as being thrust into some alternative reality – something like what I felt in a room full of LSD-tripping people at Stan Grof’s workshop at Esalen.

As the Panama Anthem was played, the entire room jumped to it’s collective feet and sang at FULL throttle. People on the TV were crying, the announcers were crying, people in the room were crying and I was crying. It was such a moment of national pride that their team had even gotten to the games. It was overwhelming.

I now understand why the announcer talk at full scream and beyond – so they can be heard over the audience. They were so clearly partisan it was frightening. Nothing good to say about Belgium – they always seemed to miss goal by a mile, while the Panama team was OH so close. Whenever the ball got to the Belgian side of the field, their voices hit frantic levels.

I was struck by how theatrical players became when they felt they’d been fouled. They fall to the ground grimacing so hard that I was sure they’d never get up. Of course, they jumped up smiling as soon as the foul was called. I was assured by my friends (with a smile) that this is just part of the game. I should note that this is the first soccer game I’ve ever seen start to finish.

At the end of the first half, the score was 0 – 0 and the crowd jumped and cheered as though in victory. I was informed that, against a far superior and experienced team like Belgium, a tie was just as good as victory. From my limited view, it did seem like Panama had controlled the ball better, with 63% possession time.

As there are no commercials during play, the advertisers compensate with a full 12 minutes of non-stop ads at half time. Virtually all were for fast food (Pizza Hut, McDonalds etc), banks pushing personal loans or new cars. None of which speak well for Panama’s future.

My other note is that cursing in English (esp Fuck and Shit) seems to be an international language. If my lip-reading skills are at all accurate.

The second half caught me off-guard when the teams came out in different uniforms and went downhill from there as Belgium scored 3 goals to none for Panama. With each Belgian goal, there was more head shaking and less enthusiasm. 

As the clock ran out, the room got really quiet and everybody made a fast exit. The only phrase, repeated often, was “Wait for Sunday. Wait for Sunday” – when Panama will play it’s second World Cup game vs England. They are 8 to 1 underdogs.

Going Back (to Nassau Hall)

The gang of 3 old room mates - together again after (too) many years

Outside the entrance to our Cuyler Hall room

After my little “incident” with TSA, I continued on my way back to my 45^th Reunion at Princeton. In the JetBlue gate area, I spotted two young ladies from the Class of ’13, headed back to their 5^th and obvious by orange shirts – a color not common, except among a species migrating to NJ at this time of year. We found two more Tigers on the plane and were joined by a sea of orange and black gear in the Newark airport, all massing toward the NJ Transit train south. The short ride was filled with tales of Reunions past and revelations of odd college nicknames. At the end of the PJ&B “Dinky” tracks, we scattered across campus to find our respective classmates.

With Fred just before the Reunion mayhem started

My first stop was the relative calm of a restaurant on Nassau Street, where I saw my dear room mate and friend Fred Drake and met two beloved Facebook friends - Fred’s wife Marie and Bill Piper, two of my favorite and most thoughtful posters on FB. From there the whirlwind blur of Reunions began. I stayed in a lovely dormitory room in Holder Hall a was delighted to find the scent of wood and ancient plaster walls is exactly as I remembered it 45 years ago.

The medieval staircase up to our room

One highlight of the weekend was visiting old dorm rooms with Fred and our third intrepid room mate Brad Shingleton. To our slight dismay, all our old dorms had been brilliantly remodeled to ADA and energy conservation specs. My old freshmen room had been converted into a womens’ handicap bathroom, nulling our old treks down 2 flights of stairs to use a bathroom. Only our Sophomore room remained intact, with memories dripping from every crack and window. The other salient event was the P-Rade, an orange and black procession of every Reunion class, which I best describe as watching your life pass before you in reverse. Just a few minutes into the march across campus, local lightening strikes caused its rare cancellation. Undaunted, the great Class of 1973 took up its banner and continued the trek alone (after the sound of thunder dissipated) to a hero’s applause from the bystanders. In sum, it was a glorious time with old friends and some new. I was a bit surprised by the number of slow walkers, hearing aids and knee scars among my classmates. My only complaint was the loud volume of the dance bands, which may just be a sign that I too am growing “old”.

PG in his robotics lab

After Reunions, I continued my US vacation with a visit to my dear friend, adviser and adventurer PG Randall and his wife Louise at their new Chestnut Hill home and a visit to his national award winning robotics lab at Chestnut Hill Academy. Then a rainy visit with Dave and Kathleen Phillips in Beach Haven, NJ and a wonderful time with sister Darcy and BIL Steven in Norwalk, CT, complete with sea-going adventure. I did most of the travelling via train, which I found to be prompt and well done. Sadly, visits in FL with son Alden and family and sister Robin had to be cancelled due to a stomach issue. Though I did get in a visit with one of my oldest friends Pete Travis.

Now back in Changuinola, I need some rest.

(note-many of the photos are courtesy of Marie Drake and her keen photographic eye)

Cacao - The Cautionary Tale (Goyo Detention)

One of the highly suspicious blocks of cacao

I never thought of myself as a terrorist, never felt like one or looked like one, never thought I’d be mistaken for one. So, imagine my surprise when I heard the words “Sir, please come with us.” and  found myself escorted in the company of 3 TSA agents to a back room at the Ft Lauderdale airport. One was carrying a clear plastic bag containing my shoes, belt and pocket contents. Yes, I was nervous.

In the small back room, I found my backpack inside a steel box and was asked what I was carrying – clothes and cacao, which none of the agents had heard of. At that point a supervisor appeared and asked me to open the bag and remove the contents. With the 10 neat little paper bags of cacao spread at the bottom of the box, the supervisor repeated the question of contents – cacao, the stuff you make into chocolate and I offered the supervisor a smell. This only prompted a request to open one of the bags. With the dark brown cacao now fully revealed, he finally ventured a cautious sniff and then requested I open a block, since everyone knows that the best place to hide a plastic explosive is inside a chocolate flavored shell.

Now, we were joined by yet another agent with a box of electronic gear, who took little paper test tabs and rubbed them on me and the cacao. After the device failed to detect any real explosives, the mood lightened considerably. It seems my cargo had the same electronic scan signature as plastic explosive and the good TSA folks were just keeping us all safe. The broken block was left behind, in hopes that some tech person can re-calibrate the equipment to exclude cacao as a suspect threat. I also discovered that a good sense of humor is NOT a prerequisite to TSA employment.

And I continued my travels to deliver cacao blocks to friends and family along my trip.

I should note in fairness to TSA, that I was wearing a bright orange shirt and carrying 20 solid blocks in a small backpack. Highly suspicious, indeed.

Chiquita Railroad

Chiquita execs live well - right on the golf course, 1 block from office

A pleasant pre-lunch stroll though the Chiquita Country Club neighborhood near my apartment. The homes on the golf course are all Chiquita execs. I've never seen a soul on the course.

An original narrow-gauge steam locomotive - banana hauler

I ran into some of my friends from the COOBANA banana co-op today at lunch. COOBANA was formed by ex-Chiquita employees and competes with them. I helped them with a rainwater collection system, which they have now duplicated on 8 more workers' barracks.
I mentioned that I had just seen one of the old narrow-gauge steam locomotives, so they gave me some history.

A derelict diesel locomotive - standard gauge 

Chiriqui Land Co, the predecessor to Chiquita, built the narrow gauge RR in 1906. It was upgraded to standard gauge in the 60's and a new bridge built across the big river. That was also the time that they switched from shipping whole stalks to individual hands packed in boxes. Both methods required lots of labor to load and unload RR cars and move the fruit to the ships.

Big Chiquita container trucks roll by my apartment all the time

The whole system changed with the advent of containerized shipping around 1990. Empty containers back directly into the packing house and are loaded and sealed. They drive to the port, where they are off-loaded directly to the ships. This has greatly improved fruit quality and lowered costs. The guys also said that Chiquita saves all the money they paid to maintain the RR tracks, but uses the roads for free.

 

The apartment building

My friend and landlord Yadira has just updated the FB page for her hotel. She did a great job. I've enjoyed living here during my Peace Corps service in Panama.

Yadira is quite a gal

She is a bundle of energy and joy and has made my time here very comfortable. Few women on the planet work as hard (or play as hard) as she does.

My room is the standard 7 x 10, but I've added shelves and that "lived in" look

Regional PCV Meeting

That is a good likeness of the owner.
With his dreads in a chef hat, he stands about 7 feet tall.

Every 4 months, all the Peace Corps volunteers from the Bocas area gather for 2 days for a regional meeting. It is always a joy for me to mingle with this wonderful group of (mostly young) folks. Many are close friends who trained together for 10 weeks and now get a reunion of sorts. Yesterday, we all met with our respective government agencies for an update and some training and discussions. Last night, the troops went out on the town – to one of Changuinola‘s many casino/discos. While the youth reveled in the drink and dance, the music was just too loud (especially the bass) for me and I made an early exit.

The inside of the Ebony restaurant features reggae music and all
manner of Caribbean posters, carvings and knick-knacks

The main meetings are held at a very nice “AfroCaribbean” restaurant and feature Staff from the office in Panama City who travel here to inform us on administrative changes and the like. Sad to hear that the Peace Corps budget will be cut for a second year by the Trump administration (less Peace, More War). We hear from various volunteer groups and then break into program groups (Water & Sanitation, Sustainable Agriculture and English Teaching) to discuss how each person’s service is going, try and help each other with any problems and solicit help for upcoming projects. It is a marvelous, professional and useful exchange of ideas and shows how no PCV truly serves alone – we are family.

At this meeting, we welcomed a new batch of PCVs who just finished training a month ago. They were warmly welcomed and given some advice from each veteran volunteer. Some of my favorites: ALWAYS have some toilet paper with you, laugh at yourself whenever possible, say YES whenever possible, smile a lot, talk to as many people as you can, baby powder and rubbing alcohol can be your best friends when there is no water for days and (my favorite) keep your soap in an old sock so nobody steals it at the family shower. Such are the joys of service.

Tia Sofia

Tia Sofia's enormous joy and personality are obvious - she lifts everyone she meets 

For me, part of the joy of exploring is finding those stories. My quest is aided by living in a place where I don’t have a car and really don’t need one, given the very sensible mix of retail places in every residential area. That means I either use the abundant forms of public transport or walk. Whenever I have the time (and it’s not pouring rain), I choose the later. I try to stay off the main streets and travel the network of pathways that honeycomb the town. It gives a better view of how folks live.

A recent stroll took me down one of these small paved pathways near my apartment. The homes in my neighborhood are modest by American standards. They are neat, but generally not as well-maintained as in the US – many have faded or peeling paint and torn or missing window screens. The yards are generously landscaped, but without grass lawns or neatly clipped shrubs – mostly unruly flowering plants and vines. As I wandered this sunny morning, I was suddenly stopped by the smell of delicious fried food, which I found wafting from an average looking home. When out came a short, wide jovial woman and sold a bag of her goods to a young man.

That’s when I met Sofia – or “Tia Sofia” as she likes to be called. As I passed by, I commented on the wonderful smell and on that basis, she invited me in. One of the many benefits of Peace Corps service is that we stand out as one of the few, or perhaps only, gringos in town. As such, we are curiosities and often get special attention, especially as we speak the language – unlike the tourists. So, over some very strong coffee (pre-mixed with sugar) and outstanding empanadas, Tia told me her story.

Sofia grew up in a tiny village upstream from the big Changuinola dam. When she was a small girl, her family made a trip to the “big city” of Almirante and she was hooked by the bustle and excitement. She decided that she wanted the city life and moved to Changuinola when she was 14. She worked for 10 years at Chiquita bananas in their packing operation and sending money back to her family in the jungle. At some point she started bringing her home-made empanadas ( corn tortillas with a spicy meat filling) into work with her for lunch. Some of her co-workers tasted her fare and soon she was bringing in extra empanadas and selling them to other workers. Soon, she added hojaldras (fried bread) and patacones (fried plantain discs) to her menu.

One day she realized that she was making as much from her cooking as she was getting paid to pack bananas and decided to strike out on her own, now selling her wares in front of the Chiquita packing house. Then, she started selling to local roadside stands that just sold morning coffee and foods, but had no kitchen of their own. She bought a house and got married (her husband died 5 years ago) and got some of her family to move to town. They get up at 3am and start cooking, then distribute the food all over town, mostly on bicycles, but sometimes use public transport.

A few years back, due to public demand, she expanded into the tienda business. She has a little store in the front of the house that sells more things than can be imagined in such a small place. As we spoke about everything from the Peace Corps to Donald Trump, several folks came in for supplies and a neighbor came by to check out the gringo. She absolutely loves what she does, including giving credit to those tight for cash. Her joy of life is palpable and infectious. As I left, Tia stuffed more empanadas, hot from the kitchen, in my hands and made me promise to come back. I plan to do just that.

Such are the rewards of a simple morning stroll in Changuinola, Panama.