Dispatches from Jay and Julia in Panama. The views expressed in this blog are those of its authors, and not of the Peace Corps or the United States government.
So after a lot of paperwork, a thorough dental exam, and a heated encounter with a Panamanian taxi driver who ended up banning us for life from his 1992 Nissan Sentra (which kept breaking down, thus causing the heated encounter), we arrived mostly unharmed in Kansas City on August 19 - precisely a year, a week and a day after we left.
Suffice it to say that it has been an action-packed couple of weeks. Tears have been shed. Some of joy (as when we were reunited with Sophie, who it turns out is still among the world's greatest dogs). Some of sadness (as when the lady at the Copa Airlines counter in Panama City told us that, oh yeah, they had recalculated the fare on our flight to Miami and that we still owed $1,500). Some of relief (as when the Copa lady, who received one of our most brutal brow beatings, eventually relented and let us on the plane for the previously agreed upon rate of $260).
In any case, it turns out that to be a whole lot easier adjusting to life in Kansas City than it was to life in rural Panama. We had some lingering fears that the pace of life here would be overwhelming, that a steady stream of media and technology being force fed into every minute of every day would leave us disoriented and make our reentry a harrowing, Kafkaesque experience.
On the contrary! It turns out that cable television, the Internet and cell phones are wonderful, life-affirming tools. Even the most vapid of popular culture has provided boundless joy. I've found the Kardashians surprisingly easy to keep up with. I sure hope Kourtney and Khloe do okay in Miami!
However, lest we feel the pangs of Panama sickness tugging at our appendages, we need only take a trip downtown to the locally semi-famous "Grand Boulevard of the Americas."
Just one look at the "Stars and Rectangles" dangling majestically from a lamppost...and we're back in the thick of it:
We are presently preparing for our departure from Panama, but before our time here comes to an end (and with it the bright hot white light of goodness that is panablog), we absolutely must share with you one of the keystones of Panamanian culture: the ¨salomar.¨
Graham Greene published a memoir about a series of trips he took to Panama around the time of the signing of the Carter-Torrijos Canal Treaty, and noted that everywhere he went he saw men ¨barking¨ at one another. When he asked the country´s leader Gen. Omar Torrijos about the phenomenon, Torrijos informed that it was not barking but ¨traditional peasant singing.¨ The Panamanians call it the salomar. And it´s probably best if I let this video (which was posted on YouTube by another volunteer) do the explaining:
I think Omar Torrijos was a stand up guy and all, but, frankly, I find his application of the word ¨singing¨ awfully generous. Mostly because the first time we heard people doing it we thought we were about to be attacked. Songs generally don´t have that effect on me. Anyway, now we´ve learned that salomaring is something of an art form, and that each town has two or three salomar champs who are often called upon for entertainment (alcohol is almost always involved). They even hold salomaring competitions. Which, of course, are broadcast over the radio:
I tell you what, Panama: I don´t think we´re going to be able to find anything like that on the dial at home.
Blazam, panafools! You know, we’ve talked snakes. And we’ve talked spiders. And we’ve talked snakes and spiders in such a way that you all might be forgiven if you thought Panama was infested with the things. Especially because it is. But it’s also infested with a lot of other cool stuff. Like, I don’t know…this BLUE FROG CARRYING TWO TADPOLES ON ITS BACK!:
That’s right: blue frogs. Here’s that same picture again, just to drive the point home:
I bet the frog would taste like blueberries. Julia bet it would taste like poison. She was right.
Anyway, to review, in addition to snakes and spiders, there are blue frogs. We also have gigantic beetles:
And your requisite camouflage-capable lizards:
Beetles and lizards=mostly harmless. Harmful, on the other hand, are the spindly caterpillars which took over one of the trees that the hammock hangs from:
(When alerted to their presence, our host grandfather Manuel made a torch and burned them alive. I got the impression he´d had a nasty run in before...)
Also potentially painful, I suppose, were the wasps carrying larvae on their backs that started to horde on a tree right outside the back door:
But they moved on without incident.
And let´s not forget the scorpions, which live in the cracks in the walls and only come out at night:
No one we have talked to here has been bitten by a spider. Almost half of the people have had a run in with a scorpion. Pretty scary stuff, I know. But, if you want to talk about real, heart-stopping, palm-sweat-inducing, makes-you-believe-that-pure-evil-does-exist terror, try looking into the face of a...
During one of the “Here are some of the terrible things that can happen to you in Panama” sessions we had during training, the Medical Office told us to be aware of the existence of a li’l fella called the Chinche (or the Cone Nosed Bug in English) because it spreads an unpleasant infection called Chagras fever.
This, in and of itself, didn’t bother me too much. When the doctor told us that the Chinche spreads Changras fever by defecating on a person’s face, and then smearing the feces around so that it gets lodged in small cracks in the skin,however, I found myself a bit off put.
“So try not to let any bugs go to the bathroom on your face,” the doctor said.
I frankly, didn’t think that would be much of a problem, because I´ve tried to abide by the maxim ¨Don´t take any crap from anybody,¨ in both a literal and figurative sense.
I relate this anecdote only as a way to provide some context as to just how traumatic the events of the past week have been for me.
I was well along into the night´s journey on the Slumberland Express when some sensory input from the real world broke into dreamland. What was that…some kind of…liquid…that had hit my back? “No…,” I thought as I quickly gained consciousness and scrambled for my headlamp. “NOOOOOOOO!!!” I thought as I heard the fluttering of mammalian wings and shined the lamp toward the ceiling, where I saw the following:
The next morning, I spent several hours conducting a CSI: Bat crap investigation, trying to determine whether we had a single shooter situation, or some kind of conspiracy:
The next day we cleaned off the net, decided the whole thing was probably a fluke, and went to bed just like before, assuming that we´d be alright...and were awoken a few hours later by another attack.
So now we´ve got a piece of plastic set over the mosquito net, which manages to keep the bat crap from landing on us.
The good news is that, if my memory of Ace Ventura, Pet Detective 2: When Nature Calls serves me correctly, bat crap, or guano, can be quite valuable. If true, we´re waking up every morning under a gold mine!
I'm assuming that from the picture you all probably wouldn't guess that, as of late, things have been going swimmingly. That's because the picture is really bad. But we took it on a day when Julia was stuck in bed with the flu and directly after I had, against my better judgment, just eaten half a jar of peanut butter and was consequently not feeling particularly spry.
In any case, things are pretty good. Apparently all we had to do to solve the problem of not having very much to do was whine about it on panablog a li'l bit. Over the course of the last couple of months our calendar has filled up a bit, which has left us ever so content. We teach English at the school in our community Tuesdays and Thursdays, and then at the school in a relatively close community (an hour's walk away) on Wednesdays, and at a school in a relatively far community (about two hours away) on Mondays. The arrangement at the last school is under review because 1.) when we show up at the school we are at least drenched in sweat and covered in mud, and often soaked with rain, which means we probably aren't making the greatest impression, and 2.) we only teach an hour long session each week, so the walking to teaching ratio is about 4:1. Not strong.
Anydoodle, we are also doodling around with the prospect of teaching "Informatica" classes in our community because they just got new computers. Which is great. What's not great is that there are only two computers, and there are 175 kids in the elementary school, and since there isn't electricity the computers have to run off of a gas-generator, and making sure we have gas to run the thing is an incertain proposition.
In any case, next time we visit the ¨Month X: Complete¨...the one year mark will be behind us. That will be a nice milestone to have hit.
Thank you for your visit, panapals! And if you could just lower your voices, we'd really appreciate it!
Because today we proudly announce the official opening of the Jay and Julia’s House Branch of the panablog Public Library. The library´s collection – the most extensive of its kind in the entire district – was made possible by generous donations from the Jay and Julia’s Moms and Dads Foundation, and the moral support of panablog readers like you.
Anchored by international smash hits like, “Donde Viven los Monstruos” and “Se Venden Gorras”...:
...the library provides a great educational resource for the local childrens, and also helps us pick up useful Spanish phrases like, “¡Escúchenme bien, monos! ¡Devuélvanme las gorras inmediatamente!”
It is an unfortunate fact that for many of the kids around here exposure to books has been low enough that step one is an orientation session during which we cover: 1.) how to turn the page, and 2.) book layout (i.e. if you read what’s on page two first, you’re likely to find what’s on page three more interesting.) And some of the traditional library etiquette we’re used to doesn’t translate culturally. For example, the kids like -- and, in fact, often insist on -- reading the books out loud. Even if other kids are reading out loud as well:
From where I´m sitting, it kind of kills the library mood. I mean, one kid giving us story time is great. But if I´m trying to listen to Danielito so I can find out what happens to the butterfly in ¨Mariposa, Mariposa,¨ and Cirito's three feet away yelling about Harold and his stupid purple crayon, the magic is lost. We get it, Cirito. Harold likes to draw on stuff. Frankly, I´m a little bit more interested in whether the butterfly is going to marry the cat or the rat. But, whatever: sometimes you´ve got to be the bigger person.
How you livin' Jay and Julia? In mansions and Benzes!!!
At least by rural Panamanian mountain hamlet standards. And to prove it we've conceived a series of video posts that will take you inside the homes of all the stars of panablog. We're going to start out with us, and then if there are ever any other stars of panablog, maybe they'll get an episode too.
As you will see, our house is pretty sweet. But, unfortunately, the heart-shaped concrete blocks that serve as our windows don't let a ton of light in, so the interior camera work leaves something to be desired. Namely light.
Hey, Griff’’! Sorry we haven’t hit you up with any Panamanian baseball priming in a while (if you’d like a refresher on the information you’ve already received to help you prep for your announced November visit, give a look here and here). But while you’ve been swinging your way through the first half of the season back in Seattle, we’ve been secluded in thought – thought about the Yankees.
This hasn’t been a pleasant experience, frankly, because I don’t like them. Which has made it more than a bit disappointing to find their propaganda: Everywhere. In. Panama:
And it’s not just some crazy hat obsession. Ask Panamanians about their favorite MLB team, and this is what you get:
One guy says the Red Sox. Every now and again you’ll hear something crazy like the Dodgers or the Braves. But nine times out of ten, it’s the Yankees.
The only solace I take in all this is that 1.) almost all of the hats are knock offs, so the Yankees aren’t making any money in licensing fees, and 2.) the nickname that the first guy in the video used, “Los Mulos de Manhattan” (“The Manhattan Mules”), sounds considerably less flattering to the American ear than it does to the Panamanian.
Granted, it’s not like this Yankee mania is totally out of the blue. Mariano Rivera is Panamanian (he’s from a place called La Chorrera, which is kind of like Newark to Panama City’s New York, East Oakland to Panama City’s San Francisco, Independence to Panama City's Kansas City, etc…), so they’ve got some legitimate claim to Yankee fandom. But there’s something else at work here as well.
Prior to the presidential elections in May, we were getting a rundown of the Panamanian political landscape from an expert, and by way of explaining how then-candidate and current-president-elect Ricardo Martinelli had managed to create a twenty point swing in the polls over the course of a little more than a month, he said that Panamanians have a tendency to exhibit bandwagon tendencies. When it started to look like Martinelli had the support to take the election, everyone hopped on board. “They like to be with the winner,” he said. “This is also why they are all Yankees fans.”
Which is to say that, should Mariano get traded to the Nationals, it is unlikely that the market for red caps with a big "W" in the middle will explode here. They like the Yankees because the Yankees (historically, at least) are winners. Similarly, it seems likely that the rah-rah attitudes toward the U.S. many Panamanians exhibit could be attributed to the fact that, geopolitically speaking, the U.S. is a winner (again, historically, at least).
panablog has broken a lot of new ground in using a variety of techniques to explore Panamanian phenomena, but to date, we’ve failed to use any baseball analogies, which are always enlightening and applicable, no matter what the topic. I think it’s time we corrected that. So today, we unveil panablog’s comprehensive baseball analogy for U.S.-World relations. It looks something like this:
Let’s take a couple of examples to flesh this out a bit. Consider, for a moment, the polarizing effect both the Yankees and the U.S. have the potential to elicit. I think this dimension comes from the perception that, no matter how hard they (the U.S. or the Yankees) might have worked to build up a history of success, with all of their resources they’ve accumulated, it doesn’t seem like the deck is stacked fairly. That is, the same tactics that create success also have the potential to breed resentment. Seriously, you guys already have like six All Stars on your team, and you’re going to bring A-Rod on board? Even though you’ve already got Jeter at shortstop? And A-Rod’s willing to move to third to make it happen? What are the Royals supposed to do?
But, as I am all too aware, Yankee-hating is a fraught proposition. When the Yankees failed to make the playoffs last year, TV ratings for the fall classic plummeted. Maybe it was satisfying to be spared the sight of pinstripes in October, but the Yankees’ absence did dim the spotlight on the sport’s premiere showcase. Similarly, when the US economy collapsed last fall, the global economy tanked. So even if you don't really like the Yankees, or America, you kind of need to have them around and doing well.
So, there it is. Baseball analogy. Always helps clear things right up. If an idea is like a baseball bat, a baseball analogy is like pine tar: it really helps you get a grip on the thing. Or if an idea is like a baseball, a baseball analogy is like a little piece of sandpaper slipped into the mitt, allowing the pitcher (the idea holder) to put a little extra spin on it.
Hey, panafools. I know you're all probably a li'l bit down in the wake of the big one year anniversary celebrations. It's like, "This is so depressing. I'm 364 days away from feeling good again..." (I used get that way after Christmas, until panablog Day came along and replaced it as the best day of the year, of course).
So I thought I'd pass along a photo sent to us by a dedicated reader that might just brighten your bleak, bleak day. Tyrone and Pedro and a Californian Sherpa named "Powers" recently summited Mt. Shasta, and when they got to the top, they unrolled not only a string of prayer flags, but also...
a panablog t-shirt:
Of course, the aura given off by the panablog logo gets more and more blinding the closer you get to heaven, so at 14,161 feet the glare was so strong that the photo didn't come out as clearly as you all would probably have liked. But, still: panablog. On top of a mountain. Pretty sweet.
Panafriends, we want to reach out and give each and every one of you a giant cyberhug. Because today we celebrate a year in which the world got a little bit brighter. A year in which the old became new again, in which spirits were lifted, grievances forgiven, life reaffirmed. In short, a year in which the world got a little bit more: panablog.
On June 20, 2008 at 11:55 a.m. Pacific time (which suggests that I was taking advantage of my employer’s flexible lunch hour), a blog post was posted that would impact all of the posts posted from that moment on until the end of the history of blog posting. Of course, at the time, we had no idea where this crazy ride would take us…actually, that’s not true. We always suspected that panablog would become one of the most trusted media sources for all things Jay and Julia and Panama. And just look at where we are today: on top of the Jay and Julia and Panama media empire.
It´s been an amazing year.
Yes, we know there’s been a little bit of a financial downturn and people have lost hundreds of thousands of dollars in life savings…but when you balance out the equation with the intense, lasting joy that panablog has brought to people, it’s actually been the best year in recorded history. Just take a look at the graph:
Graphs don´t lie. To celebrate, we´ve decided to give you guys a couple li´l presents. First, we´ve updated the banner image to make it even more breathtakingly stunning. The levels on our faces and the Panamanian flag have been adjusted, and we´ve put Teddy Roosevelt´s handsome visage back in the mix.
What´s more, you can now follow us on Twitter -- just click here: www.twitter.com/panablog. You´re welcome, everyone! And watch out Ashton and CNN!
Anyway, our challenge today is to try to figure out a way to wrestle the giant unwieldy balloon of joy and goodness that is all of a panablog into a short summary post commemorating everything we’ve accomplished. I know what you’re thinking: “It’d probably be easier to secure lasting peace in the Middle East!!!” Agreed. But obligation compels us.
(Several hours later)...Okay, we´ve tried really hard and we can´t do it. There´s just too much greatness to work with. Luckily, we have those stalkerazzi over at Fanablog: A panablog fan blog to help. Check it out.
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