Chicha de pipa, river baths, and birthday cake (Written February 5, 2012)

A wonderful day centered around my host mother's 24th birthday started with American cheese and ended with birthday cake leftovers. My host mother served me bollo frito (corn meal in the shape of a hockey puck) with American cheese on top. Our hosts seem to have this odd assumption that we, as Americans, love American cheese. Later, my family (Dad, Mom, and 4 year-old brother) went to meet up with my host dad's mother and grandmother. Both of these women host other trainees, so it was a family affair of Panamanians and Peace Corps hopefuls. A family friend drove us to my host mother's mom's house, which is about a half hour away. It's closer to the community where the other Peace Corps sector from my group (Community Environment Conservation) is living. There we met up with the other half of the family for a fun-filled day.

First we ate pipa. Pipa is a form of coconut, but a less mature variation that looks green, yellow, or gold. My host father took a giant pople to knock down the heavy fruit from where they were hanging, high in the trees. Watching our heads, some of the men and I ran down to gather the fallen pipas. Then we ate. First, you open the pipa and drink the juice (the word commonly used here is chicha), cutting the fruit just enough to release the liquid contents. After drinking the juice, you cut open the giant fruit with a masterful swipe of a machete. I didn't do so well... My host father had to do it for me.



(My host father, showing off and climbing the trees)


Then, the women showed us how they prepared the food in giant pots, throwing in rice, onions, peppers, spices, and pork in a delicious mixture of authentic Panamanian goodness. But the women didn't want us to eat and then go swimming. The old wives' tale of waiting an hour after you eat exists here too. So we went to the river before we ate. The ladies left the food in the pot, covered with palm leaves from a nearby tree.

River fun came next. We drove down to a river where lots of locals were "bathing." I make the important distinction between swimming, which is somewhat rare, and bathing, or simply getting wet, which is what normally happens. Four generations of Panamanians and Peace Corps trainees were in the water: my host brother, the 4 year-old, host mother and father, both of their mothers, and Mama Rita, the great-grandmother and matriarch of the town. Watching an eighty-plus year-old woman play around in the river was definitely a highlight of the day, and of my time here thus far.

We went back to eat the delicious food awaiting our return. So delicious, I went back for seconds. Then we ate birthday cake (most of which as a layer of dulce de leche in the center) and drank passion fruit juice. YES!



(Little Edier, my host brother, the cutest little necio (brat) you'll ever meet)