It has been awhile.
This ones a little jumpy.
Today I hate Peace Corps service, a few days ago I loved it. Yesterday I hated Panama, today I appreciated it's beauty. Being in the Peace Corps here in Panama is at times something I regret, at other times something I am very proud of.
This morning I watched a small barefooted indigenous boy approach a police officer, in a Kevlar vest with an assault riffle in the middle of the road, to give him a piece of candy maybe as a kind gesture, but more likely as a distraction and ploy to get him to bend over just long enough for a slightly taller boy, who had been waiting out of site, to dump half an old dirty two liter's worth of Lago Bayano on his intimidating sunglassed and capped head. He laughed, feigned anger, and then chased them off, he smiled and ate the candy. Now there was a wet well armed police officer with a lollipop, stopping passing cars searching for smugglers of cocaine. I laughed, this is how the eastern side of Panama celebrates Carnivales.
I think I am waiting around for a defining moment of my peace corps service, the defining moment, that moment when my life changes and I see not only the impact I have made on my community, but the impact they have made on me. In a couple of days I will have been in Panama for a year. I haven't had that defining moment yet, I haven't even done what somebody would call a project in my site. I have been here a year and I am not sure what I have accomplished or what I will accomplish.
My girlfriend came to visit me at the end of December, she came on the last day of 2014, we started 2015 together. We spent a couple nights in Panama city before taking an overnight bus to David, six or so hours from the city, followed by an early morning four hour bus ride to Changinola, the capital of Bocas del Toro, we had plans to leave the next day for Costa Rica. I was nervous, really nervous about her visiting, I had been excited, but after over a year of not seeing her, I was nervous. As her arrival grew closer I remember running through horrible worst case scenarios, her showing up and not being able to stand each other in real life anymore. Anyway it was there in Changinola that I realized, I couldn't go to Costa Rica because I left my passport on the other side of the Panama Canal approximately sixteen hours away, on a good day. She didn't even get a little upset and we spent the rest of her visit making similar mistakes and falling in love all over again.
She brought me a package from my dad, who is the most wonderful, generous, and supportive person in my life. He goes above and beyond the call of fatherhood, if it calls, constantly. I regret that I haven't told him enough how much I appreciate him or how I owe almost everything I have accomplished in some sense to him. I guess thats a common realization of growing up though.
I think a big challenge of my service, I actually hate calling it that, service, but it's honestly the best word for it, has been overcoming the expectations set by and stepping out of the shadow of the volunteer who was here before me and to be honest, i still haven't done it yet. Its hard to compete with somebody who made such a huge impact and is so well liked, especially when they are still in the country. I think when I learn how to deal with that, I will find something else to be the biggest challenge of my service, like the evangelical church, for example.
One thing that I can take away from 2014 and my first year of Peace Corps service, other than a paycheck, that allows me to not need to file taxes, is an affirmation of my values and passions in life. Priorities is the actual word I was going for. I recently spent a week working at GAD camp which is a youth development, goal setting, and sexual health workshop that GAD puts on in Panama. In simple terms it is summer camp, with a bit more homework. I loved it, it has been the most fufilling thing I have done so far in Panama. I hate to be that person who talks about summer camp all the time, but I think I really will become a professional camp counselor. The camp reminded me not only the importance of building up, inspiring, and opening doors for the youth, but how rewarding it is. I want to spend the rest of my life doing this, this but with outdoor stwardship and adventure. Thank you Peace Corps for showing me you can't grow out of summer camp, no matter how hard you try.
Tomorrow would be, is my mom's birthday, I don't know the correct way to say it. Something about being in Panama makes her absence in my life seem raw and fresh again. I think the new situation I have found myself in has left me searching again for her support in a new way that I never new I would need. Anyway, i wrote her this poem, or me this poem about her last year and still all I cling to of her is the way she smelled . So as I think of her tonight in the smoke of patcholi and sandalwood I feel it is only right to end this blog post with the poem. Happy birthday mom.
Monday, January 6, 2014
My mothers hair smelled of patchouli and cigarettes.
It only existed braided, or wildly.
Strong and free.
Frizzy, frazzled, and damaged.
My mothers hair was unending.
Like her love, it never stopped.
Never compromised with dye or scissors.
In the wind it would wave wildly entangling.
Forming bonds with itself impossible to break.
Always slightly messy.
My mothers hair mirrored her soul.
Never compromised, but always growing.
It was sure to stay with you.
As pieces remained after each encounter.
My mothers hair was unforgettable
A defining characteristic.
My mothers hair represented comfort.
Safety. Warmth. Love. Peace.
Compassion. And understanding.
My mothers hair hid weakness.
Covered pain.
My mothers hair was beautiful
It smelled of patchouli and cigarettes.
