Earth Day and Paper-Based Frustration

We celebrated Earth Day at school with a nice dramatization. A group of kids prepared a presentation about caring for the planet. Each student represented something: water, dirt, plants, animals, human beings, and Earth. Each kid said which they represented and built off the other, saying they needed the preceding living or non-living things to survive. Then the Earth said, "They all live within me. If you don't care for me, all of us will disappear." Then they all jumped up and finished strong: "Let's take care of our planet!" Objectively, it was fantastic, getting the kids involved in an important day, spreading a good message.

Yet I couldn't help but shake my head and grunt throughout the whole presentation.

As I mention in other posts, I'm often shanghaied into doing menial tasks. As always, I try to make it clear to my counterparts that my purpose is to teach English and improve methodologies used by teachers. Their priorities, however, are much more short-term. Namely, silly little presentations during assemblies and school bulletin boards. So last week, I spent most of my time either preparing the cardboard cut-outs used during the assembly or preparing the bulletin board. This bulletin board is a responsibility that rotates among all the elementary school teachers. April was my counterpart's month. We put together the display on April 19th or so. The other teachers made fun of us the whole time. "Wait, it's still March! HAHA! It's super early!"

So throughout the whole prep for this, I shook my head, thinking, Wow. I went to college for four years, only to revert to coloring, cutting and pasting for a living.


You know what, though? I killed it. What a sweet Earth! And look at that stencil work! That right there is tracing from a computer screen.


In a sense, this was good for the planet. I reused an old cardboard box. And look how nice the little pictures turned out.

The overwhelming simplicity of my daily "work" is a recurring frustration. Lack of resources (money or otherwise) means that people often go the old-school way, doing things by hand, as printing everything is both expensive and still considered out of the ordinary. So tests and quizzes are mainly written on the board for students to copy. Essays are hand-written. Posters are often the only visual aid used in classes. I've been trying my hardest to drag the English teachers into the 21st century, but it's a slow process. Even if the school has computers, people aren't accustomed to using them...or even know how. But I digress. The point is that my work sometimes, nay, often, feels like Kindergarten.

As a matter of fact, I just spent all afternoon coloring in sheets of color-coded keyboards that I plan to use for a basic typing class I'm giving to upper elementary students. I plan to laminate the sheets in order to let kids practice the proper hand position of typing, since they're aren't enough computers for everyone to work, even if in pairs. So that took a while, as do most things I want to turn out well. I finish each project and hope that it will lead to something better, a moment with a teacher or some students. I try to focus on what the project might lead to. But it always seems to lead to more of these silly projects. If it's not coloring keyboards, it's making flash cards, writing, cutting, laminating with clear plastic tape, or making posters for teachers and students.

I try to get the teachers to take the initiative to prepare their own materials. Getting my other elementary school teacher to sit down and complete all the steps in the process of making her own flash cards LITERALLY took the entire year. Panamanians often have so little faith in their abilities that I had to baby her through DRAWING PICTURES AND COLORING. This is a grown woman we're talking about. This is the exact same problem I face with kids: they assume they can't draw (or do many things) because they don't try. Someone, usually the teacher, takes their notebook and draws a picture for them. So something as simple as making a poster publicizing a school activity is something outsourced to the Peace Corps volunteer whose "artistic ability" trumps that of most of the school. Why? Because he's the only one willing to sit down for more than five minutes to make a nice poster. Or color-coded practice keyboard. Or flash-cards. Now I know I don't have to do a lot of these silly little projects, but the kids respond to them. I feel like the teachers should catch on and try and start doing similar projects themselves, for the sake of their students.

Perhaps I'm overreacting, but I ask myself a serious question and am still curious about the answer. Let's say I do this Peace Corps Fellowship program (Teacher's College at Columbia University in NYC) that would lead me to become an elementary Bilingual Education teacher. Is this--arts and crafts and horribly juvenile endeavors--what the future holds in store for me in the teaching profession? I really hope not, because although I'm a sucker for tangible results of my hard work, I'd really prefer to not have my success measured by a pretty, colorful display of moderately artistic, but altogether meaningless paper and plastic.
Harumph.

My Life is Average

So a little while ago, I was doing the dishes when I noticed a cockroach in my cabinet. In this case, when I say cabinet, I actually refer to a broken refrigerator I use as storage for pots, pans, utensils, and dry, non-refrigerated food. The cockroach was foolish enough to move from the safety of the inner compartment to the door. I used that opportunity to slap at him with a towel. One direct hit led to another, the first with the towel, the second with the bottom of my Croc knockoffs.

After stomping to death an innocent creature, I did a victory dance with Mary J Blige's "Just Fine" in the background. (Serendipity? Is this an indication that I'm actually quite content with my life? Maybe.) Then my insect disposal, known to all as Maní, swooped in to clean up the mess (see also: scorpion, large spider, praying mantis, huge beetle, mouse). I no longer have any desire to stop that from happening. Instead of sweeping the dead insect out, what did I do? I got my camera.


Kitty is curious.


Kitty realizes that this is food, and not just a play-toy.


Kitty feasts. "Oh, he eatin' it!" (Dave Chappelle's bit about the fish bowl in a woman's bedroom, anyone? Oh man...)

My cat ate an insect. This is the highlight of my day. My life is average.

24 Years on Earth, One Year in Panama

A lot of events surrounding "One Year" have been happening in the past few weeks. We had our One Year Medical Check-Up at the beginning at April, and then our One Year Anniversary, which commemorates having served in our communities for a full year. And of course, this past Wednesday was my 24th birthday, and my second in Panama. So if those other events weren't an indication enough of my being here a while, then two birthdays is certainly something.

I spent the day itself in my site. That particular day was actually quite typical Panamanian: there was no official class, as a nationwide event was going on. A contest was going on that day, Childrens' Storywriting. Wow, sounds fun, a creative outlet for the kids, right? Yet they found a way to suck the fun out of it, making the kids write perfectly in pencil with meticulous detail and then write over their stories in pen after they had finished. So that was a bit sad. I spent the day doing small, menial tasks, feeling a bit worthless, like I often do when I'm not doing anything of interest. I did get a bunch of hugs and kisses and congratulations from coworkers. Later, at the end of the day, the gym teacher bought me lunch in honor of my special day. The remainder of the day was the result of luck. My Regional Leader, a supervisor for volunteers, was visiting my closest volunteer, who lives within walking distance. After their meeting, they came down to my house. I made them a nice lunch, and then we had a pleasant afternoon together, enjoying my new hammock and each other's company. Then I Skyped with some friends, local and international. So although I was a bit selfish, not sharing treats with the neighborhood kids like I did last year, and a bit reclusive, not even venturing outside of my house the whole afternoon, I enjoyed myself.

The weekend was my training group's One Year celebration, where we volunteers got together to party and realize that we made this far, and that time will fly by from this point forward.


Before heading to the beach for our One Year celebration, I went most of the way to a friend's site, where a dozen or so volunteers crashed at her house. Those wonderful people made me a Pana-cake, or birthday cake with melty frosting. Way too humid for that stuff to maintain good consistency.


The One Year party was a lot of fun. On Saturday night, the group held a Talent Show. It was great to see people displaying their various talents. A few recited poems they'd written, we had a girl do a belly dance routine, and then there was my favorite performance. Pictured above is a group that did "Look at Me Now" by Chris Brown, Busta Rhymes and Lil Wayne. They got dressed up and memorized the whole rap, which is especially impressive considering how fast those artists spit. It was cool. And of course, I sang a song. I finished off the show with "Can't Take My Eyes Off Of You" by Frankie Valli, as performed by Lauryn Hill. It was nice, since I really don't have a creative outlet here. I never, ever get to sing, unless I'm in my house or bucket bathing in my latrine. And even then I'm sort of conditioned to be conscious and shy about it. So I sang my heart out for that one, and it felt good. Gosh, do I miss Glee Club and the Dicks and Janes!

This year has been incredible. I've met loads of new people and have experienced all kinds of wonderful new things. This upcoming year of service holds such potential in store. I feel more comfortable in my community, and settled into my work, even if I've made only a little headway. The most important thing I've realized is that no matter what, I should focus on the positive and not dwell on the negative, my shortcomings, my failures at work or in the community, or anything else. It's so much easier to forget that stuff when I don't allow it to plague my mind. As the past few weeks have already demonstrated, I probably shouldn't blink, because it will be over that quickly.

One year down, and one to go.

Journey into the Bull's Mouth

For Holy Week I took a new trip to the province of Bocas del Toro, the most northwestern province in Panama, known for Chiquita banana fields, amazing beach tourist destinations, sharing a border with Costa Rica, and for being tropical and wet.

First I visited some friends whose sites are over there. It's always great to visit other volunteer sites, to see how we all live. I spent a day in each of three friend's sites.

Oh my goodness, it's such a long trip. I live an hour west of Santiago, about the center of the country. To get from my site to the main terminal in Bocas del Toro: 1 hour to Santiago + 3 1/2 hours to David + 4 1/2 hours to Changuinola (follow on a map if you wish to see). So including the time waiting for buses in between, it was a 13-hour trip. Insane to imagine when you consider that the country is so small. The roads, especially during that last leg of the trip, are winding, built along mountains. Slow going in a bus going about 30 mph on average. A gorgeous ride, but I spent a good portion of it trying to sleep.

I spent Monday night at a friend named Jackie's site, which seems to be the most central. It was a nice little reunion with a few friends. We all spent the night at her house and basked in each others' presence. We went to the river, made good food, and had a great time.

On Tuesday I headed to a friend named Austin's site.


Cutting down "free" bananas with Austin from vast banana fields. The trees were interconnected with string to help hold up the flimsy trees. The bags, I believe, are to protect from insects.


It should have been one swipe to chop down the banana tree. Fail. I'm no good with a machete.

His site is on the border with Costa Rica, so we could literally have walked between countries. We chose to simply walk to the river and chill out at the bridge, not crossing. It's interesting to see the culture there, Costa Ricans and foreigners leisurely going from Panama to Costa Rica or vice-versa.

On Wednesday, I went to a friend named Andrew's site.


His site is an indigenous community up in the mountains, with wooden houses on stilts. It's gorgeous. This isn't the best picture, but what can I say? I don't take very good pictures. Or enough pictures to have good ones.

On Thursday I met up with a friend from U-M named Marnie. She's working as an English teacher in Costa Rica. She was going to Bocas with some friends, and got in contact with me a while back to include me in their plans.


A U-M and RC (represent!) reunion in Isla Colón, a famous tourist spot literally crawling with foreigners. It was very unnerving seeing that many people that, well, look more like me than most Panamanians. As is customary when I see white people, I immediately lean in a bit to try and listen to their conversations...to see if they're speaking English! Not all of them do. My time in Panama has almost conditioned me to believing (as many in the interior do) that white people all speak English.

Isla Colón, along with all of Bocas del Toro, is amazingly beautiful, tropical towns and mountains, and picturesque beaches not pictured in this post. It was a great way to spend Holy Week!