Stations of the Cross...at school (Written March 30, 2012)

Today, the last Friday before Holy Week, the school performed the Vía Crucis, or Stations of the Cross, a Catholic (what should I call it--a ritual? a sacrament?) practice that reminds us of the cruxification of Jesus Christ in a series of 14 stations, each marking a point in the story. The entire school prepared each station with chairs or desks, and adornments like flowers, crosses, and rosaries.

As the students at the primaria are between pre-Kinder and sixth grade, they had trouble standing still during the readings and prayers. They mumbled through the Hail Marys and Our Fathers, but isn´t that chorus prayer never above a garbled whisper so quintessentially Catholic? No matter where you go, that´s just how it is.


(They just wanna take pictures. That´s all they wanna do.)

But for some reason it was all very odd to me. Having been to other Latin American countries and understanding, more or less, the culture, I should have understood the deep religious sentiment that permeates every facet of their lives. Especially out in the campo. However, attending secular public school and having Separation of Church and State drilled into my head my whole life made today an entirely foreign experience. Shoot, I thought. I´m part-Mexican. And Catholic!

The Beginning of Work: Observation (Written March 23, 2012)

All the volunteers went their separate ways to their respective sites. We arrived and we--or at least I--wondered, "What do I do now?" Peace Corps can do its best to prepare us, but once we get to our sites, we´re basically on our own. Pretty daunting.

I decided to take it slow for a while and simply observe, sit in on several classes and determine how I could best serve the schools. At my site there are two schools: primaria (elementary) and primer ciclo (a technical school of both middle and high school levels, often preparing its students for professions in agriculture). Since my counterpart is a primary teacher, I spend most of my time with him. However, I´m trying to spread myself across all four teachers´schedules so that I can help all around. For nearly every class thus far I have just sat in the back of the classroom, quietly taking notes on the teachers´ style, interaction between teachers and students, how much students participate in class, etc. I wrote so much that every time a student looked down at my notebook, they would say, "No te cansas de escribir?" (Don´t you get tired of writing?) I really don´t, but even after one day I wanted to throw down my notebook, get in there, and try and help make things better.

I´ll give you an example of what I´ve seen thus far. Imagine you´re in first grade. Your English teacher arrives (since the students don´t typically change classrooms). The teacher comes in speaking primarily in English (a broken English, but what do you know? You´re six). Usually, you spend most of your time copying words from the board, a tedious process, seeing as how you´re six years old and are just learning how to write in your native language. Meaning, spelling, and pronunciation of English are a blur that have no connection to the words you´re writing. Yet you cling to the notebook, doing matching exercises, tracing words (WTF?), and translating because that´s what your teacher is accustomed to.

I witnessed extensive copying as early as first grade, and all the way up through sixth grade and beyond. As a result, for the most part, students only knew how to translate from one language to another. When posed a question, even one as simple as "Where do you live," it proved very difficult. Plus, since English seems a new requirement, and supposed upper-level students have only taken one or two years of instruction. Yet, they are expected to read paragraphs of English and answer questions. As a result, lots of primer ciclo (high school) students used a dictionary to look up every individual word, even ones as simple as don´t or you.

My head was spinning, thinking about all the work I have to do and the high expectations the community and the teachers and the school have for me. A long and winding road lies ahead.


(I tried to be a fly on the wall, but it´s hard when the students have probably never seen an American before, let alone one so devilishly handsome.)

That isn´t to say that the week was a complete nightmare. The students are very excited to have me in the classroom, which is essential to their success. My counterpart has given me a few opportunities (either of his own accord or since something pulled him out of the classroom and left me alone with the kids, sometimes for as long as forty minutes) to work with the kids. Once, he put me in charge of reviewing some introductory phrases like "What´s your name," "Where do you live," "Lend me your pencil," or my personal favorite, "Please don´t speak." I tried to implement some things I´d learned during training. I made sure to drill pronunciation and repeated myself several times, since I am likely the first native English speaker they´ve ever heard. I made gestures when helpful and appropriate. I asked simple yes or no questions to get the kids listening to English in action. Finally, I made sure to ask the kids those key questions to get them to understand that English isn´t simply foreign words written on a board, but a way to communicate.

My counterpart was pleased with my performance. So pleased, in fact, that he made me repeat that same thing with two more classes.

So I think there´s a light at the end of the tunnel. Eventually, the kids will have the skills and, more importantly, the courage, to use English to communicate with each other and express themselves. But for now, it´s on me to mix things up in the classroom and light their fire within.


(Some cute kids, huh?)

Before I came to Panama I never thought I would:

-rejoice at the sight of toilet paper in a bathroom. No toilet paper, no soap, and no towels to be found in most public restrooms. Also, my host family does not use toilet paper. What´s their alternative, you may ask? Newspaper. Think about it.

-want to kill small children for staring at me. Obviously, I say this in jest. However, it gets on my last nerve that I can´t write in my notepad at school for more than a few minutes without three kids reading over my shoulder and asking me what I´m doing. I can´t go five minutes reading from my Kindle in a semi-public place without kids asking me if I´m studying. Yes, studying. Reading doesn´t seem to be a big part of the culture. So in their mind if I´m reading, it´s only because I have to. I´ve had some funny interactions with kids trying to explain the technology of a Kindle. I usually end up calling it my libro mágico (magic book). Also, they do this thing where they say my name every time they pass me. "Teacher Nicolás!" everywhere I go. At first it was cute. Now? Ehh...

-miss vegetables. I´m not in love with veggies or anything, but nice hearty squash and greens are just too good to go without. Vegetables are really hard to come by around my town. Or if they´re not hard to come by, people just aren´t used to eating them. But I certainly love the plantains I get 4-5 days a week.

-refuse to say my friends´ names without a silly Panamanian accent (e.g. Nicolás Bree-gart-nair). This was something I did already from time to time, but after two whole months of hearing Peace Corps staff´s interesting pronunciations, I can´t help it.

-hate my last name. You should see the looks on people´s faces when I have to spell out "Bringardner" for contact information.

-want fewer hours in the day. At about 3 in the afternoon when the sun is bearing down on me, when I´ve read as much as I can read and when there´s no one around, part of me wishes it was just dusk already. Or at least 5:00 so that my soap can come on. Unfortuately, since the TV at my house only gets two channels, I had to abandon my old favorite, Los Herederos del Monte, and pick up a new one called La Rosa de Guadalupe. It´s Mexican. So it´s not all bad, but until I get into a better daily routine, it´s gonna seem like the days go on forever. Yet, at the same time, it seems like the weeks fly by.

From Trainee to Volunteer: Swear-In (Written March 16, 2012)

Wednesday, March 14 was a momentous occasion in the lives of fifty-five people, the day when we took our oath to protect the constitution of the United States and made that leap of faith to serve two years in a needy community. The ceremony took place in the Canal Museum in Casco Viejo of Panama City, the fancy historic district I visited a while ago on a day trip. The venue was classy but subtle, not too many attendees aside from Peace Corps staff, a representative from the U.S. Embassy, and a member of Panama's Department of Education.

A lot of people came up and spoke and it felt like a standard ceremony, but three moments stood out in my mind.

1) The playing of the National Anthems. When The Star-Spangled Banner came on, I felt a deep pride for my country. Every American sang along, and I thought back to every time I sang it with Glee Club or the Dicks and Janes or choirs. I got very emotional, swelling with patriotism and nostalgia.

2) The oath itself. We raised our right hands and repeated after the Embassy representative. It made our time here seem real, our service to come seem relevant. Not everyone in the world becomes a Peace Corps volunteer. So, despite all the struggles we will inevitably face, people have requested our help and will appreciate our accomplishments, no matter how insignificant they seem to us.

3) My turn to speak. I gave my speech, which was an overwhelming success. The complements were incredible: the best speech at any ceremony anyone had ever attended, delivered with confidence with some kick-ass Spanish.

I was proud of how the day turned out. We made it!

A friend was kind enough to record the speech, so I would love to share with you one of the best moments of my life. Below the video of the speech is a transcript.


English translation:
Good afternoon everyone. Thank you very much for joining us in this great moment: the end of our training and the beginning of our service as Peace Corps volunteers. We have not arrived here by ourselves, but rather with the support of many. So on behalf of all the trainees, I would like to thank the people who have helped and supported us during our training.

Thanks so much to the Peace Corps staff, especially (names) and our Spanish teachers. We are also greatly indebted to our host families and to the entire community of Santa Rita for hosting us.

From the bottom of our hearts, thank you for helping us to reach this dream, answering the call made 51 years ago by President John F. Kennedy, this dream to serve the world that has called us to help.

We have come here of our own will, leaving behind our homes and coming a country that was, at first, completely foreign to us. We have left behind our families, our friends, our homes, and our jobs. Before this, we were students, teachers, coaches, businessmen and –women, journalists, social workers, singers, dancers, friends, parents, and children. We continue to fill these roles, but from now on we take on another: volunteers with Peace Corps Panama.

We are volunteers, very excited to keep our promise to assist in English classes. We know that our impact will come slowly, but shall be truly meaningful, both in- and outside the classroom. We have come not only to help teach English, but also to share our cultures, customs, and talents, and learn about those of our Panamanian counterparts.

We have come to learn about all the richness of Panamanian culture and their immense kindness, with which we are already quite familiar. Thanks to all of you, we have come to understand the importance of personal relationships and the responsibility of each and every one of us to care for our neighbor, treating them like family. The Panamanian family is all-inclusive, and we are very grateful to be a part of it. And feeling like a member of that family, we are very excited to participate in cultural exchange, to contribute to the development of the educational system, and to share all our experiences.

We have come to learn and share, but even more important than that, we come to show the Panamanian people something universal: the importance of having dreams. For human beings, the tendency is to cling to that which comfortable when faced with obstacles. But we are in our sites so that its inhabitants dare to take risks, so that they realize the resources they already have, and so that they may take advantage of them and become great citizens of their country.

We plan to strengthen the work of our counterparts, the English teachers of Panama. Through collaboration, we strive for improvement. We are working to ensure that these teachers can become the heroes of tomorrow. We are here to support them and improve their language and teaching skills. We plan to lay the foundations so that they can meet the demands of the 21st century.

And to the students we plan to light their fire within and get them excited, not just about English, but about education in general. We come from far away and serve as the good example, the result of having educated oneself. Our students have no reason to believe that their lives are confined to the borders of their country. The world is theirs too, and we plan to show them with all the splendor with which it deserves to be shown. I hope our presence encourages them to dream, because ingenuity is borne of dreams.

To this country, to its inhabitants, to the teachers, and to the students we plan to bring all the enthusiasm and motivation we can into the classroom. We bring all the ingredients for success in our communities, but we ask of them one simple thing: the desire for more, the desire to dream, and the willingness to work for it. Together we will put forth a great effort and reach these goals.

Thank you.

Unfortunately, the video will not load. I will keep trying. In the meantime, enjoy the transcript.

Goodbye, Santa Rita! (Written March 11, 2012)

(My host family and me)

We've reached the end of training, which means it's time to leave our training community. And we the trainees have done our best not to simply leave, but to go out in style. Yesterday we threw our host families a party, preparing the food and serving as the waiters, switching up the roles. For once it wasn't the Panamanians throwing heaping mounds of arroz con pollo on plate after plate and offering second helpings, juice, salad, and desserts.

After the delicious meal our program director said a few words in appreciation of the community's hospitality. Then, as I'm going to give the big, fancy speech at our Swear-In ceremony in a few days, it "seemed only right" that I should speak at the despedida (goodbye party) too. So I did. It wasn't too big of a deal. In fact it was a good warm-up for Wednesday the 14th, the big day.


(A typical view while reading in the porch area)

Tomorrow at 7:00am the trainees pack up into a bus and leave Santa Rita. And it's a bit sad. They've been really good to us. During these eight weeks we've actually been kind of spoiled. I'll miss the children's faces that have gone from distant and inquisitive to warm and inviting. I'm definitely going to miss the selection of snacks at the various corner stores. Never in my life have I craved (and subsequently satisfied those cravings for) junk food: Ritz cracker sandwiches with cheese filling, chocolate cookies with peanut butter filling, yogur bebible (a creamy yogurt drink), and much more.

I won't miss the stench of burning trash or the insufferable yapping of stray dogs fighting in the middle of the night, but I will miss the people. So I'll have to come and visit.


(Look at that face!)

Welcome to your new home (Written March 9, 2012)

(Welcome home, Nicolas!)

This was the week of our site visit, an opportunity to scope out our town, and meet people: our counterparts, teachers, principal, students, community members, etc.

And what can I say? My site is what it is. Before I got here, all the Peace Corps affiliates in the know described the place as campo, its people humilde. Yes, they're very nice. They also don't have very much. The visit, as I imagine it's supposed to be, has served as an image of what's to come, a week-long microcosm for a certainly rewarding but potentially difficult two years of service.


Here are some of the struggles I've already encountered:

1. Water. It seems to be sparse during the hot summer months. My host family's house has no shower, so I have to take bucket baths, which isn't out of the ordinary. And on a few occasions, I've had to search for a place to take a shower. A few times I found a place behind the school in a shower stall. Not too bad. However, one time I was taking a shower in the early afternoon. I was rinsing without any problem, although the water pressure was weak. I was all full of suds when suddenly, the water cut off. Ugh. That wasn't fun. I couldn't even finish my shower that afternoon. And then there's the drinking water situation. My counterpart said I'd need to bring purified bottled water from from the provincial capital during my visit and then use the Peace Corps issued water filter. Thus far, I've only had a chance to boil and filter my water once, and there are still remnants of an unpleasant taste. I think I'll eventually get used to it. For a while, though, it wasn't fun. The first few days, the little I used to brush my teeth gave me the runs (and I don't mean the burning desire to go jogging).

2. Animals.
A. The other day I found out I share my room with a mouse. He's a sloppy roommate who leaves droppings everywhere. Rude.
B. I was sleeping one night and began hearing the sound of a cat meowing restlessly, like it was begging for something. It seemed to get closer and closer, louder and louder, until...a kitten fell on my face. It must have been in the space between the top of the wall and the tin roof. And let me tell you: it was NOT one of those moments when I wanted a kitten to fall on my face.

3. Dust. The small town has but one main street, which is unpaved. So whenever a car rushes by, the wheels kick up a full-blown dust storm. Plus, most of the surfaces here are either cement or just dirt. So my shoes and sandals and feet are always covered in a thin layer of dust/dirt. But you should see my host parents. Their feet give new meaning to the word ashy. No lotion + dust + 80 years of living a certain way=???

4. School struggles:



5. Summer heat. Afternoons with nothing to do but hide in the shade.


(They got popsicles. Good, cuz I'm gonna need some on those long afternoons in the oppressive heat.)

But it's not all bad. There are definitely good things as well. The town is surrounded by foothills and valleys are visible in all directions as far as the eye can see. The landscape is beautiful. The second day I was there, I went exploring on my own. I headed south, downhill toward the valley that supposed ends in a river. I walked for an hour and saw magnificent views of the valleys at sunset.



So if I ever need to clear my head, I can definitely take an early morning or late afternoon hike down El camino trail. But next time, I shouldn't wear sandals. That was a bad choice.

Oh, yeah. And a beautiful woman lives in my house.



Her name is Negra and she's the guardian of my host family's house. She reminds me of Duke, or rather, the way I always imagined Duke should look.

So things will take some getting used to, but I'm ready to take the plunge. After all, it's Peace Corps.