On the bus

Yesterday was the quarterly Regional Meeting, where all volunteers in a given province or region get together for two main reasons: to interact and network with local Panamanian agencies and build contacts, and to have a meeting with a few members of the Peace Corps staff for updates.

A close volunteer and I rode in on the bus together. We live within walking distance of each other; it just makes sense.

Before I get into the story I should preface it with this. When volunteers get together, a few things typically happen, the most common of which is venting. We complain about Panamanian cultural differences that frustrate us. Often, we harp on the lackadaisical way they treat most endeavors: work, play, everyday life. Especially right now in the heat of summer with no school in session, no crops being planted, and few to no projects being started. It's quite therapeutic to share these feelings with volunteers who are experiencing the same issues. We often turn to each other because our loved ones back home sometimes don't understand. So we share our stories and have a laugh about it. We're sometimes critical of these people. While it's humorous to us, it's occasionally at the expense of our host country.

On the way to the meeting, a group of women and a few children boarded the bus. They chose to stand and grab the overhead handrail, bracing themselves against other people's seats, inevitably rubbing their crotch or ass against shoulders or heads of seated passengers. All this, when not two and three rows behind us were open seats. Enough open seats for everyone to sit comfortably. My friend and I were baffled. We thought, If you're going to pay, why not sit down and be comfortable? We even exchanged a few words about it. At this point in my service, I try to avoid that type of conversation by saying, "I don't know" or "People are different." I didn't want to bang my head against a wall, er, window, trying to make sense of something unusual to me. In the moment, I didn't seek to understand, to empathize, but I was curious. I kept watching.

A stop later, more people boarded and that horrible situation of squeezing behind people in the bus aisle came to pass. The new passengers took the seats those women and children had left open. This happened a few more times at subsequent bus stops. And all the while the standers kept their silly smiles on their faces, just trying to be polite.

To me, being polite would be making entrance and exit from the vehicle as easy and comfortable as possible: getting out of the aisle so people can get in, sitting in one of two connected empty seats as far away from strangers before sitting in that seat next to an already seated passenger, etc. We thought it was ridiculous how they had handled the situation. Why didn't they just sit down when they had the chance?

A few stops later, those women and children got off the bus. It turned out they weren't going very far. That's when it made sense to me: they stood on the bus so that people who were traveling farther, to Santiago, could sit and have a comfortable ride. After seeing what happened, I was ashamed for having judged them, because I realized it was simply their way of being polite to future passengers.

My idea of courtesy in public transportation is vastly different from what I have experienced here. I could never imagine picking up a stranger's child to help him or her board the bus. Or holding a stranger's baby or toddler in my arms while the mother searched her bag. "I'm not about to touch somebody else's kid. I don't want to get sued!" I could never imagine having a cell phone conversation longer than 20 seconds on the bus. "What? You need me to get you what kind of tampons? What size? No, I'm not too busy to talk. I'm just on a bus where everyone can hear me yelling!" I could never imagine seeing a woman whip out a breast to feed her infant in public. "Is anybody gonna say anything about this public indecency?" Never could I imagine someone intentionally standing in the doorway of a bus, clearly in the way of everyone trying to get in, just to be in the best position to get out quickly. "We're all gonna have to get out. Why is the appointment you need to get to any more important than mine?" And I could never imagine choosing to stand up in a bus that jerks from park to third gear in no time flat, zooms around curves, and fills up every nook and cranny with gas tanks, dozens of chicks in a cardboard box, spilled juice on the floor, kids sitting on laps, and so many plastic bags of groceries, a bus packed with dozens of creatures and inanimate objects fighting for their space in a country where personal space is a fantasy.

Yet no matter how different it is from what I'm used to, I had (and have) no right to judge harshly, to denounce people as ignorant or impolite for the way they behave on a bus. Shame on me for having the word "dumb" on my tongue, or even thinking it. Next time something similar happens, instead of thinking, "That's dumb. Why don't they just sit down?" I'm going to keep my mind open and my eyes discreetly fixed on those people who have me so confused.

I want to judge less and seek to understand more.

A good day

Being back in Panama after the luxury and comfort of the United States can be kind of a shock. I won't say I went through withdrawal or anything, since I've been living here for a year, but after having everything so close within reach (family and friends, movies and other modern culture and technology, etc.), it was a hard adjustment back into this life. It also doesn't help that literally no one is doing anything of interest right now. It seems that people decide to take a summer vacation with their kids. Those who normally go to the fields to work or harvest take a break. So hardly anyone is doing anything. People chill during the summer. Lie in hammocks, maybe go to the river. After a whirlwind visit home, sitting and doing nothing is confusing, foreign to me. In order to stave off boredom, I've had to find any and every activity I can.

Today was a successful day because it flew by. I interacted with loads of Panamanians (as opposed to staying holed up in my house, which was my standard activity when I first got back), got free food, made some food for people, went to the river, and much more.

First, I had a normal morning, and even got to read. I'm trying to get back into the habit. Later, a man came by with a large box full of bananas and asked me to make him banana bread. He'd heard from his aunt (my host mom) that I'd made her some before, and he wanted a taste. He then offered to buy the ingredients I needed. Sweet! I then made him the banana bread, giving me something to fill up that mid-morning dead period.

While the banana bread was baking, some kids came to visit. A few were from the group I asked to take care of my cat while I was gone.

*Note on the cat caretakers: When I first got back, Maní, my cat, had stopped using the litter box. There was also a torn bag of cat food lying on the floor, which I imagine he ate from at his leisure. These clues led me to believe that the kids didn't come every day. So I wondered how much they deserved the goodie bag gifts I had prepared for them. In the end, I gave them out anyway. I'm glad I did. They loved those goodie bags.

Contents included a small ornament, M&Ms, little chocolate Santas (which surprisingly did not melt), pencils and pencil sharpeners from Disney World, small pins decorated with Disney characters, and SweetTart and Gobstopper style candy.

The group took me to a kid's house to deliver one of the bags. On the way there, one of the girls said, "Teacher Nicolas, I'll never forget you."

After I gave the one boy his bag, we all went back to my house to eat and be merry. Then, some of the boys invited me to go to the river with them. We swam for a bit while the banana bread was cooling.

I took the bread to the man's mother's house, who lives next door. Two of the three boys who took me to the river with them accompanied me. The man and his mother both enjoyed the banana bread. He and I talked about the US. He's living in D.C., but isn't a citizen yet. His mom offered me some lunch and we all had a nice visit. After that, we went home.

Some of my host mom's grandkids were visiting, so I decided to give them what was left over from the assorted Christmas gifts. They also seemed to appreciate it. While they sat, ate their sweets, and showed off their ornaments and Disney pins, they taught me a little couplet:

Pluto el perro, Mickey el ratón
Y tu la dueña de mi corazón

If every day could be like this, then days would fly by and whether I feel I "help" my community or not, I would feel content, fulfilled with my service.

Kitty agrees that it was a good day.

Back home for a while

I left my site on December 11. After spending a week in Panama City hanging with friends and training for events and camps that await me when I return, I set off for the USA.

My first stop was Orlando, where I met my dad and brother to spend a few days in the theme parks, making a perfect transition from the simple lifestyle I lead in Panama to good old American excess.

Taken at Epcot. I really, really wanted a Mickey Mouse ice cream bar.

On December 23 my dad, my brother, and I flew back to Michigan, where I promptly got a big hug and kiss from my mom. She welcomed me back with some of my favorite things: dinner from Antonio's, one of my favorite restaurants, and marinated cheese, my favorite appetizer. Food has been a common theme throughout the entire holiday. My family seems to have made it their mission to fatten me up before I go back.

Mama was really happy to see me.

One of the important stops was visiting my 91 year-old grandma, who lost her oldest daughter and my aunt to cancer 3 months ago. It was great to spend time with her. And in return, she showered me with love, cooked me delicious Mexican food, and gave me another blessing for the upcoming year away.

During one of our outings we went to E&L Supermercado in Mexicantown, a place we frequent for all our ethnic food needs. That place makes my heart and stomach sing.

I think the Panamanians will get a huge laugh out of this. Mangoes at E&L were over a dollar each. Around May in my site, mangoes will be everywhere. Literally too many mangoes. So they'll have a hard time wrapping their head around having to pay for one.

Whether it's homemade at Grandma's house or fresh from a Mexicantown market or roadside stand, I will certainly miss authentic Mexican food.

They just don't do tamales the way I like 'em in the isthmus.

I had a whirlwind tour, visiting as many friends and loved ones as I could while I was home. Time goes by so quickly. I didn't even get to see everyone on my list.

Annual Christmas party with some high school friends. Seven years (right?) and counting. And now we're all grown up. When did that happen?

So glad I got a white Christmas. Now please get me out of this below freezing weather.

Got to visit Ann Arbor and a few friends from college. Too bad it was kind of a ghost town. Everyone else was home.

In addition to friends and family, I certainly got my fill of American cinema, and in the Holiday/Oscar season, it was perfect timing. I saw some fantastic movies: Django Unchained, Life of Pi, Les Miserables, Silver Linings Playbook, Argo, and The Hobbit. I don't want this to become a post critiquing every last one, so suffice it to say I enjoyed them. I miss going to the movies and will have to make more of an effort this upcoming year to go see the ones on my list. Dark Knight Rises was the only one I managed to see in Panama, and that can't happen next year. I mean, hello? Star Trek? Man of Steel? The Great Gatsby? Monsters University? Can't wait.

My pride in Downtown Farmington has increased tenfold since I left. I went to see a movie at the Civic, a theater I rarely took advantage of when I was around.

Future plans and "Wow, time goes by so fast" are some other common themes of this break. I got home and received congratulations for having survived a year of service, away from home, all while struggling with uneasy thoughts of hopelessness and lack of fulfillment. Those thoughts are still present, but this year has given me a new attitude. A better way of approaching the issues volunteers all face. I think I'm ready to get back to work. And keep doing my best.