The end of a trip and the end of a summer…

Jason arrived but his bags did not. I should have known that my friend’s misfortunate happenstance would predict the remaining two weeks of my time in Central America. Rain poured, cab fairs were hiked up, and cell phones were stolen (yet again).

This may sound like a downtrodden end to my summer abroad and away, but despite all of these unlucky instances, it was by far the best summer of my life. In what other time of my life will I be able to say I visited 5 countries, hiked 4 volcanoes, played in 3 waterfalls, toured 2 coffee plantations, and was 1 very very lucky girl. I feel like I can do anything I dream.

Everything was a bit of blur those last two weeks as the clock was racing and I was trying very hard to reach Guatemala City by September 1^st. The teacher strike in Honduras did not help and left me and Jason high and dry in San Pedro Sula, a city that only merits about 6 hours (if that) of activity. During our two days there we did catch up on American cinema….

After finally leaving San Pedro Sula, we reached our real destination for Hondruas- Copan. What a lovely little town! Nevermind the number of tourists, what Copan has is beautiful Mayan Ruins that some say are better intact that those in Mexico. It was a neat experience to walk around the Mayan’s temples and their stadium.

Guatemala did not get its deserved attention as I only had just a few days in Antigua before I flew out. But, I did get acquainted with the city which is also another fun town and a hotspot on the tourist route along Central America.

Now that I’m back in the U.S. and back in my office as I write this infact, I’ve had enough time to reflect on the last three months and the many countries and communities I was incredibly lucky to have seen. Wow! A trip like this is difficult to describe in words and often when people ask me about it I kind of look dumbfounded and don’t have much exciting opinions and fascinating tales to offer. It’s not that I don’t have them or didn’t experience earth shaking moments, it’s that words are not quite adequate enough. I would be better off playing a playlist with selections from Thom Yorke, Beethoven’s 9^th, and Feist (1…2…3…4… tell me that you love me more….) I came to teach in Panama, but what I received in turn was so much more than a fun volunteer experience.

I will offer this one piece of advice to all you would be travelers, entrepreneurs, volunteers, and risk takers: do it. Just do it.

Climbing the Volcano and other lazy stories…

Nicaragua welcomed me with open arms! After 3 busses, 2 taxis, and a ferry ride over to Ometepe Island in Lake Nicaragua I landed in the world’s 10th largest lake and home to the only sweet water sharks. Nice!

It was quite different here than Panama and Costa Rica. Pigs, chickens, and dogs roamed freely across the island scurrying from house to house.

Two volcanoes comprise the center of the island, one is named Concepcion and the other Maderas. I stayed by the inactive Maderas because I had heard from friends that it was worthy of a climb and a fun place to hang out for a few days.

The projected climb up and down the Volcan Maderas is 5 to 7 hours depending on if you choose to descend into the crater where a rainwater lake formed. This is no easy climb. Unfortunately two climbers died almost three years ago on this Volcano because they went up without a guide even though it’s highly advised not to do this. Now there is a city law that prohibits guideless hikes. I later found out these two hikers stayed at the same hostel I stayed at, so I could not help but think of them as I began my own climb (with guide) up the mountain.

There were six of us: two American girls, my Canadian friend Jon, and a friendly Dutch couple. We began the walk to the volcano briskly and with uncertainty how this hike would treat us. It was a very sunny day and already 30 minutes into the hike we all were sweating. The two guides that were with us were on a mission to get us up that volcano and down before sunset, so they were fast walkers. They, in fact, never seemed tired and every break that we did get they never sat down. Incredible! The walk went on and on, and the higher we ascended the more interesting it became. Howler monkeys were screaming in the not too far distance, and we even saw some monkeys at one point hanging in the tree tops.

Some kilometers later the Volcan Maderas was not so kind to us. She increased her incline fairly steeply and required us all to grab trees and branches to continue on. We were all slipping and falling and extremely dirty by this point. I think it was at this point in the hike that I had to remind myself that this was a mental challenge and not a physical one and that I would regret it if I was the only one to wuss out of the hike.

Many perspiration drops later we made it to the top of the Volcan! How glorious! We were lucky too because normally it’s very cloudy from the top and a good glimpse down into the crater is far and few in between. Not on this day, because we could see straight down, and we did. Not only did we see straight down, but four of us (me included) went on to climb down into the crater. If I had thought that the portion leading to the top was hard, then I was surely mistaken. All of a sudden the Volcano turned into a swamp and we were hopping from tree branches to tree branches trying to avoid getting sucked into a mud abyss. After escaping the swamp, I perilously avoided by a few steps tumbling down the crater on some slick rocks. But success was to be had, and we finally made it to the bottom of the crater! Ahh….

After a short rest we had to climb down. And again, if I had thought that I had just finished the hardest part of the climb, I was surely mistaken! Who knew that the finish is sometimes harder than the start? After 5 to 6 hours of walking already, my body was pleading with me to stop but we had to climb all the way down. By this point in time, all of us were tripping and falling over little rocks and roots not because we didn’t see them, but because we were so exhausted.

After a total of 18 kilometers and 9 hours of walking (what makes up a standard work day) we stumbled back into the property of the hostel. I don’t think I’ve ever been as tired and smelly in my entire existence, but now that I’ve had several days to recover from such a hike I would say it was worth it-- blisters, corns, bruises and all!

From one side of the Mountain to the other

My first big trip out of Panama City, I decided to head North… or West… or whatever direction it is to the Chiriqui Highlands from Panama.

I had spent over two months in the bustling, large capitol of Panama. This capitol is growing rapidly; skyscrapers and condominiums are sprouting like weeds. Expats emigrate here to avoid taxes and make their retirement dream homes come true, and Peace Corp. volunteers use the trip to the big city to get all their vices out of their system. You name it, Panama City just about has it (except for Bikram yoga… still upset about that). I suppose this is why Panama is often referred to as the Hong Kong of Central America or another Miami. I think it’s just Panama, a city in its own rite.

Having said all this, I was yearning for a little r&r, a little nature, a little something more remote and out of the way. I soon found myself in the beautiful mountain country side of Cerro Punta. The trip alone was an experience. I ended up on the wrong bus after even asking the bus attendee if it would carry me to Cerro Punta. He said yes, I suppose not listening, and I was carried to the border of Costa Rica instead. Several hours later I finally made it to my desired destination – Cerro Punta. I’m glad I turned around, almost didn’t after the mix up.

My time in Cerro Punta was just what I needed! I spent the first night in a cabin by myself. All the luxuries and American chains (Dominos, Dunkin Donuts, McDonald’s etc) that existed in Panama City were totally absent in Guadalupe where I stayed. Not even a bank or a supermercado! Instead there were rows and rows of fincas, Ngobe Indians living in the fertile mountainside, and the freshest air I’ve probably ever breathed. I spent my time hiking in the mountain and biking. Ahhh… I already miss that place!

Not quite ready to leave the mountain totally yet, I headed for the other side to a town called Boquete, which I’ve heard from other travelers is named one of the top 5 places to retire in the world. I immediately thought that my ability to sew, knit, and appreciation for gin and tonics would help me fit in with the older folk. However, I haven’t found their hangout yet. There are indeed a lot more English speakers here; there were practically none in the tiny village in Cerro Punta. And there are several banks here. I can see why one would want to retire here. It’s a happy little mountain town, but just between you and me I would opt for retirement in Cerro Punta instead and grow cabbage or something.

What’s great about Boquete and probably the sole reason I came here is that it is famous for its coffee plantations. Some of Panama’s best coffee is grown here, as well as oranges. Because of that, there are coffee shops just about every 10 feet. Pretty cool for a coffee addicted girl like myself. In my city, the great city of Austin there are tons of coffee houses and generally I can find nothing to rival. them on my travels. Boquete has some cool places to hang out and enjoy a good cup of joe.

I took a coffee tour of the Ruiz plantation and learned a TON of information about coffee that I never knew. In fact, I normally don’t think about the long journey that coffee beans take from the plant to the cup and what a great amount of energy, care, and time is needed for a good cup of coffee. Of the many facts I learned, definitely the most useful piece of information was about how coffee plantations test the beans at the beginning of the process.

Coffee beans come from fruit. When the fruit is red, that means they are ready for picking. However these fruits are susceptible to damage from bugs and mold. A desirable cup of coffee would not be made up of these damaged beans, so in order to separate the good beans from the bad Café Ruiz dunks the fruits in water. The good ones sink, but the damaged ones float because there is less weight with the insect damage and whatnot. These damaged ones are called floaters. (Sounds like a joke, but I’m not kidding.) So what happens to the floater beans? Good question. I wondered the same things as well. The floater beans go through the same process as the good ones, being seeded, washed, roasted, rested, and bagged. Café Ruiz does not waste anything when it comes to their plantation which is great! They supply beans for Starbucks, Illy, Maxwell, and as you may have guessed by now… Nescafe and Folgers. The latter two companies are the sole purchasers for floater beans from Café Ruiz. Gross! So now that you know your coffee is damaged as well as protein enriched you may think twice when grabbing a cheap cup of coffee.

Seems you really do pay for what you get even in the world of coffee.

Next up Costa Rica!

Echo de menos de la ciudad de Panama!

Phew! What a summer it has been, and already classes have come to a close. No more teaching basic English in the lively and colorful neighborhood of San Felipe. No more 25 cent snow cones shaved by hand from the street vendor, and no more mysterious yelling from the man down the street who is selling something… I am definitely going to miss it-- the good and the bad, and especially all of my students.

Last Thursday Tim and I held a little end of class celebration for the students on the balcony of our hostel. We presented them with diplomas, and a few lucky students went home with their very own laptops! These were donated to us by various friends from the states, and the students could not believe it. The look of shock and amazement on their faces alone was worth the entire trip here.

Little Carlos at first asked Tim to write a note to his mother saying it was his laptop so that his mother wouldn’t think he stole it. Anastacio was boisterous and loud, overjoyed and excited about his new acquisition. Ricardo quietly but proudly modeled his laptop bag for us, and said “thank you very much”.

The fiestasita which originally was planned for 2 hours turned into a 6 hour affair, but it was great hanging out with the students one last time. They asked each of us teachers our plans for the future. Tim has decided to stay in Panama and open up a business with some new Panamanian friends. Knowing them there is no doubt it will be successful and a worthwhile adventure. In his spare time he will continue to tutor the residents of Casco Viejo. I explained to the students, “Me gusta Panama muchissimo. No quiero que ir, pero tengo que ir, chicos. Voy a viajer en Central America y despues regraso a mi otro trabajo en Estados Unidos.” I enjoyed their replies, not if I was coming back, but an adamant WHEN are you coming back, maestra?

On my last day in the barrio, I took my last lap around the block soaking up the views of the downtown skyline, the Pacific Ocean, the brightly colored Kuna Indians, and the various neighborhood locals. What I will remember forever about this celebratory lap around Casco Viejo is the encounter I had with Lobo, the self proclaimed bully of the neighborhood. He’s a big guy, stern, strong a bit scary looking who commands lots of respect from his neighbors. As is customary he said “hola maestra.” I said hello in reply. Normally this is the extent of our dialogue, but today was different. When I told him I was leaving soon, he said in Spanish that he wanted me to know that he has lots of respect for me, and that he wants me to one day teach him English as well. And that was the best souvenir of my time in Panama!

Being a teacher in this neighborhood is at times difficult, but the people here and around are very gracious for someone who spends their time teaching people who normally never get the type of attention and respect they deserve as human beings. Respect is admired greatly here, probably more than money. If you earn respect in Casco Viejo, then you’re golden. I too respect teachers much more now. It’s not an easy task to motivate others to learn, particularly when there is a lot going on at home, but everyone should be allowed a good education.

At the start of the AT program there were originally planned two 6-week back to back English courses. However, the second group of students are not ready for their English course just yet. Everything takes forever in Panama. So, now that I suddenly have all this time on my hands, I’ve decided to back pack my way to Guatemala City from Panama City.

I’ll write from the road to keep you all updated.

Nos vemos pronto!

Another update from Panamania

This has been another exciting week in Panama! Have good news and bad news. First the bad news.

Read in the paper today that the Panamanian government just changed the law covering tourists in Panama. Under the former law, tourists were able to stay in Panama for 90 days with the possibility of extending their time here twice. However, under the new (and improved?) law, tourists are only allowed here 30 days with one possibility of extending their stay. Yesterday I went to bed believing I was a law abiding tourist, today I woke up as an illegal alien. And tomorrow? Who knows.

The thought of a volunteer teacher being deported back to the United States does strike me as funny. Maybe my Mom will get her wish granted of her long lost daughter finding her way back to Texas sooner rather than later… but I doubt it. The majority of people I hang out with here are illegals too from all parts of the world.

On to the good news! Last Sunday I took a trip to Veracruz with my friend and anthropologist student Andrés who is contributing to a project about the effects of globalization on indigenous groups in Latin America. From what I hear about the project, should be some really interesting finds. More specifically Andrés is focusing on the Kuna Indians who live and work in and around Panama City. After the Kunas heard about the project that I am involved with here in the city, they wanted to meet me and learn more.

It was such an honor to be invited and welcomed into the Kuna community in Veracruz. Though Veracruz is easily found by a short bus ride from Panama, tourists are not welcomed into their neighborhood without the recommendation of someone who knows them. I actually got to attend a meeting with the head Kuna leader of the area, Manuel. Once he discovered I was an English teacher, he was super excited to practice what English he knew.

Manuel told me many things about their community and desire for change. Currently there are no English classes for the three hundred plus children who attend school. No computer lab exists there either. Worst of all, the youth of Veracruz has fallen into drug addiction and gang involvement.
My students in the AT program that I teach in Panama have been involved in a sketchy path as well, but have been able to successfully turn their lives around by becoming tour guides for the San Felipe area. The possibility of beginning such a program in Veracruz seems like a natural next step according to the elder Kunas.

In other news, two friends from Portland- Andrea and David passed through Panama this week and we had great fun playing around the city. I was excited to show them around the neighborhood, and last Friday we went to the local club Platea and enjoyed live salsa music. I always have a lot of fun watching the salsa dancers swing each other around, and as Andrea put it going there is like being in a movie. Definitely, I have to agree. There’s nothing like being in a smoky dark room, and watching a real live Panamanian salsa band perform!

A typical day in class

For those of you who are interested in knowing more about the students enrolled in the AT program of MIDES and IPAT, I took a few photos today at class.

Anastacio Campoyano and Carlos Pitti work relentlessly in the Plaza Francia selling Panama hats and jewelry. (You might see my father sporting such a hat in an earlier blog entry.) Carlos the young boy pictured on right was not originally a student of our program. However, after he attended class religiously with Anastacio we adopted him into the program.

Below is Ricardo Montenegro. If you were to take a stroll in the neighborhood, you would most likely be greeted by Ricardo. He's always walking the streets of Casco Viejo, poised to give tours of the neighborhood.

Come to class at the San Felipe Fundacion and you'd be a little surprised how different this school building looks from the typical American school building. This perhaps is because the school building is a converted nun convent.

Below is a picture of Tim Schnippert, English teacher extraordinaire and Michel Bolivae. Michel lives in the neighborhood as a well, and is the proud mother of two beautiful children.

Rear Ventana del Hospedaje

Living in the Hospedaje Casco Viejo is like living on the set of a reality show (minus the cameras). I think I laugh on a daily basis, and because of the eclectic assortment of people coming in and out of this place it is certainly a fascinating subject for any person in need of entertainment. Perhaps I will install cameras around the place, and export the little hubbub of life here to America.

Just the other night I was making a cup of chai when I entered the commons area to meet two nomadic jugglers. They were kind enough to show us their act and dazzled us with gravity defying magic tricks. It was lovely, and now I expect to see juggling acts every time I sip a cup of authentic chai.

Then there’s Clyde-- the 71 year old expat from San Diego who just got a visa to live here. Clyde has a big silver beard, blue eyes, and a great laugh… he reminds me a little of Ernest Hemingway (not that I’ve ever met him). Last Wednesday was Clyde’s birthday and we went out to dinner. Luckily I got to pick the place, and of course I picked none other than my favorite cuisine, an Indian restaurant called Taj Mahal. Indian food was not something I expected to find here in Panama, but now that I have, I think I’m set for life. Fortunately, it was his first time trying Indian food, and the birthday boy enjoyed it.

If you were to come here late in the evening, you would probably be greeted by Elise who works nightshifts at the desk. Elise has the most mischievous looking eyes I think I’ve ever seen and a great smile to go with it. She’s always watching out for me.

This place is run and operated by Ricardo, a Colombian who studied Business in London (I believe). He’s had it for two years, and I’m convinced is the nicest pension owner in the city. Not only does he hang out with the residents here, he checks up on everyone and makes sure they’re doing okay. He constantly reminds me to remind them when I want clean sheets. And one day when I clumsily locked myself out of my room and they had to break in, he didn’t even get upset. I suppose you see lots of things when you own a boarding house of expats and nomads though.

If you were to come to room 11, you’d find me probably on the balcony making doodles and squiggles of the church, the Iglesia Merced that is approximately 12 feet across the street. This historic church was built in 1531 and survived an attack by famous pirate Captain Morgan, and even a fire. Later it was moved stone by stone by slaves in 1673 to its current residence. No wonder people call it the luckiest church in the entire world!

In room 11 you might also see my roommate, comrade, and co teacher Tim. I have not given a proper introduction of this young chap, and I feel it’s about time I did. Tim hails from the great state of Tennessee. I like Tennessee for three reasons so Tim was already up high in my book before I even got to know him. Those three things are: Graceland, Bonnaroo, and Meg my childhood friend who lives in Murfreesboro. Every person I’ve ever met from Tennessee has been fun, friendly, and not to mention a handful. Tim’s a diehard Steelers fan and a Gemini. He’s the kind of guy that gets into a place through the backdoor not because he can’t afford or talk his way through the front door, but because he finds it more adventurous taking the other route. Ladies, he’s single, so better hurry up before some cute Panamanian steals him away from you.

You’re likely to run into a lot of interesting people here: anthropologists, Germans, backpackers, architect students, Americans who only have $3 in their pocket and no way home… that was a good laugh… for me not so much for him…, Scots, Panamanians, surfers, French sailors, ants and so forth.

One of my favorite films is Hitchcock’s Rear Window. I think it’s because of the combination of suspense and the fact that the film centers on voyeurism. Hitchcock hit on a real appropriate theme there, way beyond it’s time. As a culture, Americans are obsessed with knowing the nitty gritty details of others, and that is why awful reality shows go over so well. I am guilty too of watching these, so I’m not passing judgment, folks. When I meet someone for the first time, I find myself asking them 20 billion questions, because I’m curious of their story. Everyone has a story, and everyone wants to tell it.

Funny, I find it we care more about knowing strangers’ dramas on television or Paris Hilton’s life in jail, yet many of us don’t know our neighbors. Would Hitchcock make Rear Window differently today? I wouldn’t change a thing.

Well, I think I’m going to catch my real dose of Rear Window right now and head to the kitchen for some food. Stay tuned to see what excitement ensues…

*quick update, the kitchen was packed with Cubans so could not cook anything. They offered to help me practice my Spanish though, which was nice. Came back to the room to make a sandwich and spilt organic peanut butter all over myself. Aye! Jimmy Stewart, if you’re out there watching, I hope you had a great laugh. I also hope your leg is feeling better. =)