After coming up with such an ominous title, I feel the post has to live up to it by being dark and sinister. But it’s really not at all. However, the rainy season has begun. Since April has started, it has rained a good portion of the days. Although the rain forces people to stay cooped up indoors or under some sort of roof while it falls, it doesn’t last forever. Here, the rain is a welcome respite from the sweltering afternoon heat. When the rain falls, the roads stop kicking up dust whenever a car passes. The fresh smell of rain replaces the dry stench of burning/burnt garbage. It makes everything greener, and even washes away a bit of the ugly dry patches from poor waste management. So as of now, I don’t mind the rain. However, come October, I might change my tune.
As of yesterday, I have officially spent one month in my site. It’s a milestone, I suppose. As such, I should present some general updates. I think I would prefer to do that in the form of
The New Loves of my Life:
-Kindle. Thanks to that wonderful contraption, I’ve read 15 books since I’ve been here (which can be a good and bad thing). And thanks to the volunteer pooling and sharing of resources, I have a thousand waiting to be read. I just finished The Hunger Games series. Loved it!
-Unnamed puppies. Negra, my host family dog, just had four puppies, at least one of which I plan to keep when I move in to another house to live on my own.
-Tupperware/Ziploc bags. Endlessly useful here, especially for keeping...
-Fruit! Making a huge comeback in my life after being quite elusive for a while. Plus, fruits are springing up everywhere around here. More on that later...
-Internet. My school finally gets a bit of spotty Internet. It comes and goes, but even just a little is better than none.
-Packages. I finally received a package from home, which means it’s possible to send me things. Here’s the address, in case you’re interested:
Nicholas J. Bringardner
Cuerpo de Paz
Entrega General
Santiago, Veraguas
Panamá, República de Panamá
I could have posted this a month ago, but I wanted to be absolutely certain that things would safely arrive.
-The little things, like this afternoon. Pollution, although disgusting, offered its one small benefit by painting the sky purple, orange, and pink as the sun was setting. That beautiful canvas provided the background for a hummingbird that flew only a few feet from my window. Then I thought, Wow. Panamá really has its moments.
Friday, April 20, 2012
Wednesday, April 18, 2012
Panama´s Interior: The Land where "Now" means "Later" (Written April 15, 2012)
Every language is different. And even within one language things from one region to another can differ greatly. So one of the greatest challenges of such a widely-spoken language as Spanish is navigating the differences in dialect: pronunciation, word usage, meaning changes, etc. And no word meaning change is more infuriating than that of ahora.
The way I learned (and the way I imagine many of you have learned if you´ve ever taken Spanish) that word, it simply means "now." And being a punctual American, raised on strict schedules and timeliness being a part of my very being, I was surprised to learn its slightly different meaning. Now should mean now, right? Nope. Ahora doesn´t mean "now" around here; ahora refers to some undetermined time in the future. Hours, days, months, who knows?
Example:
Me: So, when´s the bus coming?
Stranger: It´s coming ahora. (Read: at least two hours from now)
What I think: Oh good, because I´m ready to go home.
What I should have thought: Better start walking. Heck, crawling would get me there faster!
It´s even more upsetting when teachers speak to me in English with their Panamanian filters."I´ll call you now," one said to me. Really, I thought. Well, I won´t wait up, because it´s likely that you´ll never actually call me. "Nos vemos ahora," they say. Yep, I reply. You´re absolutely right. We may possibly see each other at some point in the vague, uncertain future. Who knows? Maybe the buses will start running on time. Maybe the chiva drivers won´t hang out at the bars on the weekends and then zoom down the dirt roads drunk.
That will definitely happen. Ahora.
The way I learned (and the way I imagine many of you have learned if you´ve ever taken Spanish) that word, it simply means "now." And being a punctual American, raised on strict schedules and timeliness being a part of my very being, I was surprised to learn its slightly different meaning. Now should mean now, right? Nope. Ahora doesn´t mean "now" around here; ahora refers to some undetermined time in the future. Hours, days, months, who knows?
Example:
Me: So, when´s the bus coming?
Stranger: It´s coming ahora. (Read: at least two hours from now)
What I think: Oh good, because I´m ready to go home.
What I should have thought: Better start walking. Heck, crawling would get me there faster!
It´s even more upsetting when teachers speak to me in English with their Panamanian filters."I´ll call you now," one said to me. Really, I thought. Well, I won´t wait up, because it´s likely that you´ll never actually call me. "Nos vemos ahora," they say. Yep, I reply. You´re absolutely right. We may possibly see each other at some point in the vague, uncertain future. Who knows? Maybe the buses will start running on time. Maybe the chiva drivers won´t hang out at the bars on the weekends and then zoom down the dirt roads drunk.
That will definitely happen. Ahora.
My 23rd Birthday (Written April 15, 2012)
On Tuesday, the big day, I came to school with chocolates and cookies. I gave the cookies to the classes I was in and handed out the chocolates to everybody else. I wish I´d bought more, because those three bags weren´t enough for all those kids. But heck, chocolate´s expensive down here!
Then, to my surprise, my teachers bought me a cake and had a nice little party for me at the end of the day.
Later in the afternoon, I went out in the neighborhood with Oreos and peanut butter and gave around thirty kids the treat of a lifetime. Not only was it fun to share one of my favorites with the kids, it was also a good excuse to get out into the community and meet people. I went house to house and chatted for a while before revealing that it was my birthday and that I wanted to share a treat with them.
In exchange for my Oreo-peanut butter combo, the kids sang Happy Birthday in both Spanish and English. Their flawed pronunciation was funny enough, but the best part was the third line. I guess they don´t know the "dear someone" part, because they sang:
Hoppy beerthey to joo,
Hoppy beerthey to joo,
Hoppy beerthey, hoppy beerthey,
Hoppy beerthey to joo!
All in all, a pretty good day.
Holy Week: Not Wholly Uninteresting (Written April 15, 2012)
Holy Week meant five days off school and seven days of (almost) uninterrupted free time. In a hot climate like this, a whole week with little to do can be asking for sweat to invade every crevice of your body. Thankfully, I had something interesting going on nearly every day.
Palm Sunday was quite a cultural experience. The members of the church congregation worked to erect a rancho, a covered patio of palm leaves and bamboo, to cover the outdoor area surrounding the church. They also built arches of balm branches, different check points in the procession to honor Jesus´ last days. The congregation, along with the priest, a nun, and a guitarist, started their procession uphill at the school, and ended at the church, after which we all attended mass. I actually ended up being part of the process, as the priest gave me his digital camera and asked me to take pictures. (Imagine the sight of a priest in full robes with a digital camera...)
(Palm Sunday procession)
I had two days of school-related engagements to take up my mornings, but afternoons free to spend under the rancho. And that rancho ended up being the hangout spot for the week, with shade and an open kiosk serving food. It was especially great for me because the ladies (almost) always gave me free food. Church events took place every night, usually just some form of adoration, an hour or so of singing hymns. I hung around and chatted as much as I could.
Then, after a few days out and about I came back to site, just in time for the Easter festivities, the Encuentro familiar. The rancho became a mostly family-friendly party scene and the ladies were going strong, selling hojaldra (small, homemade elephant ears/funnel cake/whatever else you might call it), cut-up hot dogs in an orange sauce, and other goodies. The nun (who was quite a character) tried to get the crowd dancing, but people mostly stuck to their seats, far too shy to dance unless alcohol loosened their joints. Extremely loud stereo music (a Panamanian favorite) gave way to live music. A band complete with guitar, bass, two types of drums, and accordion, slowly emerged and played esentially the same music coming from the CD players. Although it often just sounded like noise, it was great to see some culture from my friends and neighbors. The band later dispersed and next up were some kids in a mini cantadera. Honestly, I can only find a word for the event and not the genre of singing that took place. However, it consisted of guitar, occasionally some original compositions, and a form of yodeling you can see on a TV show here called Semilla de cantores. It was cool to see some young talent, but to my ear, it seemed like it would be years before they would truly hone their skills.
(Get it, sister!)
Aside from the music, a tómbola (a raffle) initiated some excitement. The grand prize: una novilla (a calf), the equivalent of $200 alive, and a lot more in meat.
It was the biggest party to hit my town since I´ve been here. And it was great to see that my site can be fun, since it´s pretty calm the rest of the time.
Palm Sunday was quite a cultural experience. The members of the church congregation worked to erect a rancho, a covered patio of palm leaves and bamboo, to cover the outdoor area surrounding the church. They also built arches of balm branches, different check points in the procession to honor Jesus´ last days. The congregation, along with the priest, a nun, and a guitarist, started their procession uphill at the school, and ended at the church, after which we all attended mass. I actually ended up being part of the process, as the priest gave me his digital camera and asked me to take pictures. (Imagine the sight of a priest in full robes with a digital camera...)
I had two days of school-related engagements to take up my mornings, but afternoons free to spend under the rancho. And that rancho ended up being the hangout spot for the week, with shade and an open kiosk serving food. It was especially great for me because the ladies (almost) always gave me free food. Church events took place every night, usually just some form of adoration, an hour or so of singing hymns. I hung around and chatted as much as I could.
Then, after a few days out and about I came back to site, just in time for the Easter festivities, the Encuentro familiar. The rancho became a mostly family-friendly party scene and the ladies were going strong, selling hojaldra (small, homemade elephant ears/funnel cake/whatever else you might call it), cut-up hot dogs in an orange sauce, and other goodies. The nun (who was quite a character) tried to get the crowd dancing, but people mostly stuck to their seats, far too shy to dance unless alcohol loosened their joints. Extremely loud stereo music (a Panamanian favorite) gave way to live music. A band complete with guitar, bass, two types of drums, and accordion, slowly emerged and played esentially the same music coming from the CD players. Although it often just sounded like noise, it was great to see some culture from my friends and neighbors. The band later dispersed and next up were some kids in a mini cantadera. Honestly, I can only find a word for the event and not the genre of singing that took place. However, it consisted of guitar, occasionally some original compositions, and a form of yodeling you can see on a TV show here called Semilla de cantores. It was cool to see some young talent, but to my ear, it seemed like it would be years before they would truly hone their skills.
Aside from the music, a tómbola (a raffle) initiated some excitement. The grand prize: una novilla (a calf), the equivalent of $200 alive, and a lot more in meat.
It was the biggest party to hit my town since I´ve been here. And it was great to see that my site can be fun, since it´s pretty calm the rest of the time.
Wednesday, April 4, 2012
Lip-pointing
In my time thus far in Panama, I have noticed some unusual cultural differences. Sometimes things have a different meaning in different languages, and that extends from spoken words to signals and gestures. I find it funny that Panamanians also use the middle finger. A few times, while riding on a bus, someone will try to cut us off and flip us the bird while speeding past. But there is something so peculiar and interesting that I absolutely had to share it with all of you.
Say a Panamanian sees something that they want someone else to look at. Or they say, "You mean that one, over there?" Usually, I would motion with my (how should I specify?) head, or possibly my nose. Or I could simplify and just use my index finger. It´s clear enough to get my point across. But as the culture I have noticed here is much more vague, more convoluted, it seems only fitting to do something different, more uncertain in the eyes of an American.
Let me demonstrate:
I took note of it because I´m so accustomed to watching someone´s mouth while they speak (a foreign language) to ensure I understand. The first few times I noticed it, I thought someone was making kissy faces at me. Only after a few weeks did I realize what they were doing: pointing without using their fingers. I guess they figure, Why point with my fingers when I´ve got two perfectly good lips to do it?
Say a Panamanian sees something that they want someone else to look at. Or they say, "You mean that one, over there?" Usually, I would motion with my (how should I specify?) head, or possibly my nose. Or I could simplify and just use my index finger. It´s clear enough to get my point across. But as the culture I have noticed here is much more vague, more convoluted, it seems only fitting to do something different, more uncertain in the eyes of an American.
Let me demonstrate:
I took note of it because I´m so accustomed to watching someone´s mouth while they speak (a foreign language) to ensure I understand. The first few times I noticed it, I thought someone was making kissy faces at me. Only after a few weeks did I realize what they were doing: pointing without using their fingers. I guess they figure, Why point with my fingers when I´ve got two perfectly good lips to do it?
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