Fiestas patrias: Second time around

November in Panama is called Mes de la patria, in which they celebrate several patriotic holidays. I joined my elementary school in several of the festivities.


Kids dress up in uniforms (that are way too hot given the temperature) and teachers and adults dress up in any kind of traditional clothing.


We had a short parade in the community and invited other villages in our "county" to represent with a small group of students and a band if they had one.


My favorite student (shh, don't tell the others) Jorge, a little dancer


One of the fathers stayed on the side of the road during the parade on horseback. I pointed him out to people, calling him Don Quijote del Rincón.


Kids in the traditional clothes, especially the girls in their dresses (known as polleras) is just adorable. If they didn't put tons of makeup on the little girls, it would be just the best.


The sun, as it usually is on days like this, was beating down during the whole parade. The poor kids had to play the same few songs over and over with only a bit of water every now and then. When they could flee to some shade, they took off running.


The parade started at the school, went down to the site of the church (currently under construction) and turned around and went back. On the side of the road there you can see small ranches with products people sold from the various communities in the county.


You can't see them, but I'm wearing traditional sandals, cutarras, and a shirt known as a guayabera. The shirt isn't native to Panama specifically, but it looks so good. And you can see some of my kids. They's some good ones, those.

Red Cross Assembly

I had been planning to collaborate with the Red Cross since I met a few representatives during a Peace Corps Regional Meeting. A while back I finally set dates, and was able to have the assembly.

I won't go into detail about all the mishaps, formal letters with flowery Spanish, changes of dates, misunderstandings, the $40 fee for gas (so they could drive their materials and volunteers in a Jeep/ambulance) that I did not know about, or how I was led to believe that it was $60...None of that matters now that it's over.


Explaining the contents of a First Aid kit


Reviewing what I believe is the Heimlich Maneuver. First the thrusts into the stomach, then some firm slaps on the back. The kids really enjoyed slapping each other.


Practicing CPR


Learning how to carry an unconscious person




One of the volunteers mentioned how the students were more well behaved than other groups she had worked with before. I disagreed. I originally wanted to work with separate grades and spread the sessions out across three days. That didn't happen. We combined fourth, fifth, and sixth grades into one day. And then of course all the other grades said they wanted to participate. I was reluctant, but eventually relented...only to realize that their attention span was shorter than the session. A video helped bring their focus back. It was, however, in English. Guess it was a good thing no one could hear the audio.


I got something lodged in my eye and they had to wrap me up.


One of the rowdiest, most belligerent, and most victimized students in the school turned out to be extremely willing to participate in the workshop/practice portion.


Feels like I did something for the kids. I haven't felt that since about a month ago.

Without the assembly today, the kids would probably have done the same thing they do any other day: not much. At least this is something new, interesting, and potentially informative. So I'm pretty glad to have organized the assembly. Not bad, Nico!

First Annual Readers Theater Competition

On Friday, September 20th, my friend Becca and I hosted the first Veraguas Readers Theater Competition, an English language contest for students from 4th grade through high school. We had over 180 participants from 15 schools around the entire province of Veraguas.

The work for the competition began back in June, when Becca and I organized two instructional meetings, in which we explained the technique and announced our desire to have the competition which would serve as a compelling alternative to current English competitions which focus far too much on memorization and not enough on creativity. From there teachers who expressed interest began to work with us. Volunteers visited schools around the province, assisted teachers and coached students in preparing their scripts. Works included children's stories like "One Fish Two Fish Red Fish Blue Fish," "Where the Wild Things Are," and a few scripts written by yours truly.

I won't go into details about all the logistical things, but know that with only two small grants and help from the Ministry of Education's English Supervisors, we managed to put together an event hosting well over 200 people, served cake and juice, gave out prizes to winners and certificates to all participants, and looked good doing it, if I do say so myself.

We held the event at the Escuela Normal, a beautiful university in Santiago. Its front entrance has this beautiful facade.

Teacher strike slows already painfully laid back lifestyle

I've been a bit bad with my blogging for the past month. However, there's no cause for complaint because, among blogging volunteers, I've kept up pretty well. A lot of my colleagues fell off after only few months, and have gone a year or more without any update.

Sadly, there's not too much to report. It's unfortunate to think that in a month of volunteering, self-discovery, ups and downs, seminars and trips to different parts of the country about which you know so little, I feel that nothing is that important, at least not enough to warrant a blog post. Life often feels like repetition of the same mundane routine over and over. That's certainly the case most of the time. The teacher strike worsens that sinking feeling of worthlessness.

One potentially commendable characteristic of this country is that when people are upset, when they have grievances, they take to the streets. Whenever indigenous communities feel misrepresented or ignored, they go on strike, block roads, make news. That's the same for any population, regardless of race or socioeconomic status. When protest and action unifies the country, it's quite a site to see. Back a while ago when the country was privatizing the Colón Free Zone (the biggest duty-free zone in Latin America), people rioted. The government responded by repealing the law within days. They did something relevant, although the cost was three casualties, one a nine year-old boy. However, that mindset is something that carries over to all aspects of public life. Whenever working professionals have grievances like unfair dismissal, low wages, or poor conditions, they threaten to go on strike, to the point that the term is passé. This is what often happens, and has happened with teachers this time around.

Teachers and professors are ostensibly protesting a new law which would allow privatization of education in Panama. That demand has been met, and the law repealed. Yet they continue to strike. Among other issues in their posters calling for action are poor conditions in schools (often no running water or electricity), low, unfair wages, etc. The poster even denounced the Minister of Education, saying that poor schools had no walls while she "decorated the walls of her office." Their grievances are certainly a reality. Many volunteers live and work in communities without access to basic essentials. However, the Ministry of Education isn't a massive stronghold of the country's wealth. Far from it...there's barely any money anywhere outside the capital, and little outside the hands of those running the canal. Furthermore, the teachers cause collateral damage.

1) They call other professionals to join their strike, including doctors and store owners. I'm not sure how much it affects all populations, but when doctors and other professionals in cities of thousands take time off, it places the burden on others who get overworked, underpaid, feel upset...and the vicious cycle continues.

2) More salient than that (in the context of my work) is, of course, the students. Whenever the teachers strike, students still go to school. Many, especially during the early stages of the strike, walked all the way to our school (some walked from as far as two hours away) only to find out there were no classes. They then had no choice but to turn around and go back home. Most teachers at both the schools in my community are still working, as are many across the country. However, the few teachers on strike still throw a wrench into plans. If a few teachers don't show up, that means free periods without class. It adds to the already lackadaisical feeling surrounding school. Students run around unattended, playing marbles, jumping on and sliding down from the playscape, pushing and shoving and pulling hair and throwing punches at each other. Chaos. And teachers dismiss it as someone else's problem. When they're not sitting at their desks, "teaching," i.e. yelling for kids to copy faster and be quiet, they're ordering someone else to get them breakfast from the lady at the kiosk, or lunch from the women who rotate shifts to prepare food for the students. Classroom management beyond yelling and insulting only occasionally factors into the equation.

The strike is an excuse, among a list of excuses that breeds an evil known as pereza, or laziness.

"TENGO PEREZA," or "ME DA PEREZA." I'm bored. This bores me. It's what they say when Monday rolls around and they don't want to teach. It's what they say around 10am, when there are still two more hours of work. It's what they say when they don't FEEL like teaching. It demonstrates the true problem, which is that many teachers couldn't care less about their work. And who suffers? The exact people they are supposed to be serving: their students. I disagree with the methods, and the strike in general. As a volunteer, though, I can do nothing except continue to struggle in a classroom setting where laziness is often more infectious than positivity, creativity, and initiative.

SO WHAT DO I DO???

I have no choice but to be selfish, do a few things for me, travel on weekends, focus on projects more likely to succeed, leave site a bit more often, and many other things. It's hard to swallow, especially considering that we came to Peace Corps to serve others. Slowly, we realize that we also serve ourselves, and there's nothing wrong with that.

My current project, a Readers Theater competition, involves students reading children's stories in English in groups on stage. It's already shaping up to involve nearly a hundred students, which is far more than other competitions in which students participate. As of right now, it's just about the only thing I do at school. I work with kids on the scripts, reading and refining, then nothing else. One, two class periods at the most. It's important enough to me, though, that I continue. The competition would involve taking a group of ten students to Santiago to compete against their peers from around the province. It's a great opportunity, but inertia and resistance to try something new gets in the way. We volunteers keep at it nonetheless.

We keep going. The two-year commitment is a marathon, and we push on.

Am I in a rut...again?

Every day in Peace Corps can be a roller coaster, with plenty of ups and downs. Days can seem to go on forever. Yet somehow the end of the week comes too quickly and the work we should have gotten done remains on our agenda. You know, just how life is.

So, this was the status I posted on Facebook this Wednesday:

I awoke at 3:45am with ganas de orinar. After coming back inside I saw a scorpion. Oh, heck no, Mr. Scorpion. I slapped him with my sandal, but kept my hand pressed down on the wall. He stung me just before I let him fall and pummeled his tiny body into oblivion. My middle finger went numb and pain radiated through my hand. Also, my lips tingled. A year and a half of being an overall bad ass scorpion slayer and NOW I get stung...and I'll have you know I only cried for twenty minutes. (1. Bonus points if you know what I'm referencing. 2. Am I joking?) I went to school with a funny sensation in my finger and far too much mucus. Later, a visit from a Peace Corps superior made me feel better about my work, its potential impact, and the future of the program. I ran some errands for my host mom after she fed my boss and me lunch, which involved walking back and forth to several stores in the blazing sun. Then, a student who NEVER approached me before asked me for English help, and we set up a time to meet later. I arrived to his house on time. After waiting a bit too long I debated going home, but he eventually arrived and I helped him for a good hour and a half. I finally felt like I was helping some of the older kids I never see. Now I think I'll just chill with a cat on my lap and watch The Wire.

Yeah, getting stung by a scorpion sucked. Even now my left middle finger hurts a bit. If I pick up something and push a pressure point, I get a stabbing pain at the site of the sting.

Yet I still have (had?) reason to believe my day was a good one. Later on Wednesday, one of the staff members of the Teaching English project came to visit. Her meeting with me was filled with so much content that it's kind of hard to keep it all straight. What I gleaned, though, is that the project, after three years of existence, is willing to start embracing the need for drastic change on many levels. She was considering many options which could give us the chance to collaborate with new government agencies (or different departments within those agencies) in order to effect change more directly. Sounds all fine and good to me.

Then, she asked me if I want to extend my service. I go back and forth on this every day. I had the chance to apply for a position that would have kept me until June, but I somewhat intentionally missed the deadline. I was home and enjoyed that too much to even think about work. Now, there are still a few positions that would allow me to stay, but I don't know if I want to. My visit home sort of pulled me back, made me think my heart is really elsewhere. Or perhaps, just like I was doing for the entire application process of Peace Corps, my mind can't help but be fixated on the next step of my journey.

The meeting went well. During a conversation with the three of us (Peace Corps staff, teacher, and me) I think my counterpart felt a nice, subtle push in the right direction. So of course the next day he talks about how we should sit down to plan. But then today, when it gets right down to planning, the only thing he sits down to do is set in stone our plans for English Week, which we already knew. I was HOPING he would actually tell me where he's going with all his classes, IN DEPTH. It's almost embarrassing to me when I go into his classrooms and have to wonder what he's doing. Shouldn't we be collaborating on this? So, my pre-meeting mindset was actually more realistic. Riding a high from having an optimistic staff meeting is nice, but I need to keep several things in mind:

A) I haven't done the kind of work she (and the whole project) suggests EVER. My teacher and I have only occasionally scratched the surface, and then have backpedaled to the point of serious frustration on my part.

B) My counterpart, like many Panamanians, is great at talking the big game. That's how this and many other schools got a volunteer in the first place. "Sir, are you willing to collaborate with the volunteer and implement co-planning and co-teaching as outlined in our project's action plan?" "Why, yes, person offering to give me a white person for two whole years. Whatever you say." So his ability to smooth talk the staff member and make our work seem more legitimate has little to no basis. UGH!

Then yesterday was mostly shot for two reasons: one) the kids started band practice for the November celebrations and two) we were preparing for a visit from the image of Panama's patron saint. Today was off because it's Friday and everyone's checked out on Friday. So, like I always do, I leave with so many things I know I should have said.

At this point I think, does it really matter what I do? What if by some miracle I get through to my counterpart and am able to give him feedback, able to co-plan and co-teach, and do some good work? It'll only be four months until school's over. And after that I'm done in the school. When school starts next year, I won't be there. So nothing will stop him from yelling at kids to copy faster. "Jesus Christ, you're like an old lady." Nothing will stop him from flexing on kids, threatening to hit them, actually hitting them with paper or pencils, and the like. No one will be there to call him out when he tells a kid that, the next time they make a mistake in Spanish, we'll send him to the indigenous reservation, because only stupid indios make mistakes like that. I have an entire notebook filled with awful things he's said and suggestions for improvement not only on how to better treat kids, how to better manage his classroom, but also how to make English more engaging, less about copying and more about speaking, having fun, getting the kids out of their notebooks, thinking for themselves. But I wonder, does he even care? If not, why should I?


I use other projects to keep my mind off lack of development on the main teaching front. Right now my main secondary project, a regional competition to take place September 20th, is going at about a snail's pace. I can't expect too much, since it's our first run, but I was hoping for more enthusiasm. It sort of peaked back in June, when Becca (another volunteer) and I had explanatory meetings about the technique sorta presentation called Readers Theater. Since then we've sort of put it off, doing one or two meetings and figuring other things out. Only now are we really getting back into the swing of things. So of course that means teachers in the schools who are supposed to be preparing students for the competition have done nothing. Our plan is to visit schools to coach students, but we'd hoped to get support from teachers and not be expected to start from square one. What can I expect though? It's a totally new technique for them and, aside from one meeting, we've given them minimal guidance. I'm hoping the coaching sessions from volunteers will help reinvigorate them.

Hopefully success on this project will allow me to feel accomplished with some sort of finished project on the English teaching front. I could use a small victory on this Teaching English thing, or I'll have to just put volunteer on my resume. Cuz shoot, ain't barely teaching English, except for "Good morning!" and "How many pencils are there?" and Howareyoufinethankyou!"

Home Visit 2

I went home again for a wonderful visit to the States. It was far too short. However, I got to do some wonderful things!


Tigers game! Adam, who works nearby for Quicken Loans, couldn't join us. Mom, Dad, and I waved to him as we enjoyed our ball park dogs.


My best friend since Kindergarten, Philip, got married on June 29th, and I was fortunate enough to be a member of his wedding party. I got dressed up in a fancy tuxedo and did the whole thing with the walking down the aisle accompanying a bridesmaid, taking fancy pictures, and being a mini-celebrity at the wedding. Of course, those two people who had gotten married kind of stole my thunder, but I guess that was fine with me. Philip and Lauren looked so happy that day. On top of that, the food and company was great, too!


My brother and I could stop traffic, pretty much.


Some family came in from out of state to visit. One of those was my Mom's youngest brother, my uncle, who has a son I'd never met. We spent some quality time with him. One day we went to the Detroit Zoo. I hadn't been there in years, so it was a pleasant surprise to see how beautiful it is. The polar bear exhibit was especially amazing. We got lucky, and one of the bears came swimming across the viewing tunnel when we were there. He put his massive paws on the glass several times, swam back and forth, and basically put on a show for our viewing pleasure.


Along with the Tigers game, which allowed my parents and me to walk around Midtown (and catch a post-game meal in Mexicantown), the zoo was a chance to see some local attractions. It's nice to be reminded how much Detroit has to offer. I got pangs of nostalgia from my days in Summer in the City, and it made me think yet again how I want to find my way there some day.


On July 3rd, I joined some family at Salute to America at Greenfield Village, a Metro Detroit favorite. I'd never been before. It's a fantastic way to celebrate the 4th of July. Fireworks accompanied by the Detroit Symphony Orchestra? I can think of nothing better for the occasion.


On the 4th itself, my aunt hosted all the family at her house...pool included. Not pictured is me lounging on an inflatable lounge chair. Hamburgers? Check. Hot dogs? Check. S'mores? Psh, you know it! Too much food? So much so that my Peace Corps self kept thinking, "Gosh, I wish there were some chickens around to eat the leftovers."



Those were just the appetizers! There you can see Grandma, who was just beaming from having all six of her children there and an old friend from Eagle Pass, Texas. Sitting with the round table of Chicanas gave me the opportunity to flex my Spanish speaking in front of some family members. I mean, a year and a half in Panama? I'd better have something to show for it!

Time flew by during the week and a half I was in the States. People kept asking me what I want to do when I get back, which used to seem so far away. Now I realize it's only 8 months until the end of my service. Incredible. What will I do with myself? Uhhh...(stuffs face with Triscuits and cheese)

Site Guilt

Among many Peace Corps volunteers, both in Panama and other countries, there exists a phenomenon known as site guilt. We volunteers are placed in one community, our site, where we live and work for our two-year service. Several volunteers get lucky and are placed in sites with active community members, well-established programs ready to embrace a volunteer's participation, suggestions, or expertise, willing counterparts, and program sectors that build off work already done. On the other hand, some volunteers get placed in communities whose community members may seem hostile or unwelcoming, counterparts unwilling to adapt or open their minds to new ideas, or sites that simply do not have any initiative under way, which is a mammoth void for the Peace Corps volunteer to fill. Being the first volunteer in a community often creates this scenario, or being the first in a new sector, such as my own. Most of us fall somewhere in between that space of ideal and nightmarish site.

If you have a troublesome site, you may struggle to complete projects, and therefore, to feel accomplished in your service. Volunteers, much like myself, often seek time out of site to find activities and projects that allow them to feel needed, to feel relevant. For example, the majority of my work has been through GAD initiatives, the camps and youth workshops I have done. I should be very content that I have found something that allows me to use my knowledge and skills to serve this country and my own. However, I always have something in the back of my mind reminding me what I kinda sorta should be doing: Teaching English volunteer. My primary sector work, Teaching English, is almost nonexistent because my teachers are content with their way of doing things. Although my experience and training have armed me with a plethora of methods, ideas, and activities, my skills have stayed, for the most part, on the shelf because I do not collaborate with teachers in the way I can, or should. Teachers here are often unaccustomed or uncomfortable with the level of work volunteers suggest and attempt to implement. So after struggling for a while, I have decided to back off and work in other ways at the school. My work with the elementary English teacher is limited. I now teach a computer class (basic typing) for 4th, 5th, and 6th grade students, and try to instill discipline and proper classroom behavior during my time with them. Hopefully, that will help. Yet, as my sector is called Teaching English, I feel like that's what my main work should be. Cue the guilt.

Whenever a volunteer leaves his or her site, even if it's to collaborate on another volunteer's project, we feel guilty. Like we should be doing more work where we are "supposed to be" working, trying harder, pressing our counterparts. We may struggle to get people to care in our sites, but we feel that it's our cross to bear, since the Peace Corps has placed us here. What else can we do but keep fighting? Aquí en la lucha, here in the fight, we keep grinding. Every time I leave site, either to work on GAD things or to work on a new project I'm doing (which I'll explain later), I feel like my site is missing out on an important resource: me. But of course, it's partially my fault for not being assertive enough, or trying hard enough. Or is it? We vacillate between blaming ourselves and our circumstances. Honestly, blame is shared between many parties, which includes volunteers, host country nationals, and the organization. Often, sites are developed without proper research. Volunteers are assigned based on connections between government officials, principals, teachers, or whatever else. Nepotism can doom a volunteer to a site whose teachers want to look elite with an American's presence in the school, but who will not take the time out of their schedule to plan their lessons with the volunteer. What can we do? I mean, what can we DO?

We do what we can. Although most of the time I may feel like I'm doing very little, it's not true. I think this blog has already demonstrated that. Coming home and explaining my work to friends and family also allows me to step outside myself and realize that.

So the time I'm spending here is not fruitless, although I may occasionally feel that way. That desire for more, for relevance and accomplishment, is exactly what proves that our hearts are in the right place.

GAD Camp in Bocas del Toro

This past week was a break between the first and second trimesters. I spent it at a youth development camp, exactly like the one I participated in back in January, except this time, instead of a Jesuit church in a large town, it was held at a volunteer's site in Bocas del Toro.


The volunteer who hosted, along with many volunteers in that region, have sites accessible only by boat. After a long journey by bus, we had to board a carved out wooden boat and travel 15 minutes down a river to arrive at our destination.






Along the way we saw typical houses for areas such as this, on stilts to avoid the rising level of water during the wet season.


During the camp the kids learned all kinds of new games, such as this one, called Ninja.


The backdrop of our camp was a hill, often foggy, covered in seemingly unadulterated jungle.


As Bocas del Toro has a tropical climate, it rained a lot, and was never truly dry at any point during the camp. Walking through the mud was a daily activity.


The majority of the participants were from the surrounding area, inhabited by indigenous people. This girl is wearing a dress known as a nagua, while holding a cell phone. This unity of first world and third world is common in Panama.


During the camp, the kids learned about many relevant topics, including proper use of a condom.


I was the facilitator for this team. They were just all smiles.


Children of the community liked to hang out around the fence and just watch us.


During the camp, there were skits featuring two kids (myself and another volunteer) named Samy and Sandra. It's a reference to the most famous band in Panama, Samy and Sandra Sandoval. During the camp, the two "kids" learn about the topics covered in the camp and use their knowledge to help accomplish their goals. Here, I'm holding up the title of one of our topics, "Getting to Know My Body." Funny because it's a bit of a double-entendre, as if also a suggestion to "get to know my body." Also, if you look closely in the background, you'll see that we have another audience.

School Anniversary: Second Time Around

Around the end of the first trimester, which typically falls at the end of May, my elementary school celebrates the anniversary of its founding.


A few weeks before the anniversary, a giant delivery came with pieces of a playscape, which they finally assembled. Thanks, Mr. Politician. I could make a list of a thousand things you could donate that would be more useful, but those smiles let me know that it's a least a bit worth it.


For the week leading up to the Thursday celebration, people were building a covered ranch and backdrop for the show. Pretty nice, right?


Joselyn, the school queen, getting ready to put on her traditional dress, or pollera.


These hair inserts, known as tembleques, always amaze me.


This little tag, along with souvenirs, are just some of the handmade things on display during the anniversary.


You see that wonderful foam letter work? That's yours truly. I finally gave in this year, deciding that English teaching isn't the only thing I can do here, and was much more helpful than last year. I cut out the foam letters for 5 girls' sashes. I also helped to put up another mural, my absolute favorite school activity.


This Panamanian band known as a murga was a lifesaver when our sound system cut out. They were able to successfully play one or two of the popular songs in our playlist for the performances.


The entrance dance of the candidates and the queen. Their adorable final pose has the boys using their hats to cover their faces and the girls' faces, but one of the kids just didn't get it. Couldn't help laughing at that.


Those girls dressed as clowns are Kindergartners who performed a ribbon dance. One thing that irks me about these celebrations is how they plaster all this makeup on little girls, sometimes making them up to LITERALLY look like clowns.

A great school anniversary!