El Camino Real

In August, myself and Eliecer, several other PCVs, and an Embera guide hiked the Camino Real. The route, stretching from our inland indigenous villages out to the Carribean coast, follows the Spaniards first attempt at land crossing out to the Caribbean. In 1555, they created a primitive push-and-pull railway across this jungle path, to bring the gold and riches from Latin America to the coast for exportation to Spain. Hundreds of years later, that railway has become overgrown and unchartered jungle. Only a few adventure-seeking tourists attempt to follow the railways tracks per year. I’m not quite sure how this self-proclaimed city girl, never having camped before in her life, was somehow finagled into attempting it. I guess I figured I’ve come so far as to live in the jungle, why not camp out there for 4 days…just me, my backpack and some buddies?

My fellow PC hikers and I kicked off our voyage with an Alcohol and Domestic “charla” (PC lingo for rural “chat”) in my community. I used the other volunteers, from a variety of different sites and sectors, as my outside “experts” to approach this very sensitive subject. Unforunetly, alcohol abuse and domestic violence are both are big problems in rural Panama, and especially in indigenous areas. The chat went really well, and was attended by nearly all of my community. I think that our group did an excellent job of intertwining important information with some humorous role play situations, which really held everyone’s attention. And I think it did make a notable difference; last month our tourism cooperative leaders decided to put a hefty fine on anyone caught driving the cooperative-owned motors drunk.

After finishing up that skit, and a nutrition chat in Elena’a site, Embera Puru, we began our long hike. The hike was absolutely unreal. It was a real physical challenge for all of us; we hiked straight uphill the entire first day, and spent the entire second day fording some scarily-flooded rivers. Yet it was so worth it, I don’t think I’ve ever been anywhere that pristine. From a historical perspective, it’s incredible as well. We followed the old iron tracks for over 2 days of the hike; the railway is now overgrown with massive tree roots, and the old railcars and wheels are half-buried in rivers and streams. The contrast of the railway in otherwise untouched jungle is so intriguing, and written descriptions just can’t describe it. Below are pictures.

Each night of our hike, we set up camp along the side of waterfalls and crystal clear swimming holes. After a day trekking in mud and sweat, we refreshed ourselves in the water and then cooked a big meal together on our little camp stove. On the fourth day, we ended up at the Carribean coast, where we had a huge lunch and copious amounts of Panama beer. Then we stayed a few days at Brandon and Ashley’s site in Nombre de Dios, giving charlas in their school and enjoying the beautiful Carribean. It was Eliecer’s first time to the ocean! Most importantly, the beach time was much needed R&R after being in the jungle for 4 days. We had a great time.

A Night at the Chaman's

One of the most sacared Embera traditions is a chaman ceremony. Our chaman, Mamerto, is renowed for his healing ceremonies, a known as ''witch'' who uses his powers for good instead of evil. I've gotten to know Mamerto quite well. He's an excellent artisan, and has carved for me (I in return sought him the bonafide US army hat he requested from a supply store while on leave). He's one of my favorite people in the village, and I felt so privileged when we allowed me to sit in on one of his ceremonies.

Last week, a young Embera couple and their infant son came to Mamerto, concerned because the baby’s “soft spot” on his head was irregular, and his whole head swollen. He had been to the doctor several times for testing, and they were unable to determine a cause. They hoped that our renowed chaman, Mamerto, would be able to help them.

I arrived at Mamerto’s house at 8:30 to find him already sitting in front of a candle, with nearly a dozen empty beer cans in front of him, all covered with a thick palm leaf. He smiled as he invited me in, took another sip of his open beer, and clutched his cocobolo bastons. He had a collection- approximately 10. I noticed each was carved at a different height and held a different design (usually an animal, or a corresponding spirit) on its head.

To begin, he held the bastons to his chest, and blew out the candle. It was quiet and still. Then he began to chant, in a deep, monotone voice. He chanted in Embera, and furiously shook the palm in his head as he did so. Eliecer, next to me, explained hat he was calling the evil spirits in the area to a party. The chanting lasted approximately 20 minutes, and then Mamerto lit a cigarette. He invited the other men, Eliecer and the baby’s father, to smoke with him. He smoked slowly, pensively. Then he then began to chant, and shake his palm again.

Suddenly, he stopped. Surprised, I heard a light “bing.'' I looked all around, unsure where it came from, but it sounded like something metal hitting one of the pots nearby. At the noise, the infant wailed. Mamerto began to have a conversation, furious, although it was in Embera and I could not understand. Eliecer explained to me that a spirit had arrived, and that Mamerto was asking him what sickness the child had. The furious conversation, and then again chanting, continued. After nearly 2 hours of chain smoking and chanting, Mamerto stopped and went to pee off the side of the house. He came back, and then began to speak with the parents of the infant, asking various questions.

He asked if the grandmother, the mother of the baby’s father, had been around the infant. The couple responded yes. It came out that the grandmother had taken a certain type of plant, which is very powerful to the Embera. Mamerto asked them why she had taken it, if she knew the implications or if she had ingested it wanting to be a witch herself. He explained that it was through the grandmother, and the plant, that a evil spirit had entered the child and caused it harm. It was only through her, and the detention of this evil spirit, that he would be cured. The baby’s mother was furious, and she began to yell what sounded like a string of Embera obscenities at her husband.

I was confused. I left the house, tired, but in complete and utter awe of what I had seen and heard. Evil spirits or no evil spirits, I was shaken to the core by what I had just seen.

The chaman’s cemony is certainly one of the most powerful things I have been in my life. As I laid on my back on the floor of the chaman’s hut, between his wife, Dominga and Eliecer, I was struck by the magic of the whole process. The power of the ritual is palpable. The energy in the chaman’s chants and his tone, in contrast with the stillness of the night around us, is definitely a force to be reckoned with. I’m not religious, and I can only compare it to the way I felt nearly 6 years ago, when I was, for no reason at all, bawling at Easter mass on my trip to the Vatican. I am fascinated by the power attached to the meaning of a God, and a culture’s interpretation of the forces of good and evil in this world.

I feel so lucky to have experienced this ancient tradition here in my village, and am even more touched that I have reached a level of trust and respect with the people here that they were comfortable performing it in my presence. I know that it is my culture, or moreso the Western world’s religious influence, that has shamed many Embera from these beautiful healing ceremonies, and the truth and comfort they have brought to their culture for so many years.

My Biggest Challenge, and My Biggest Success (Thus Far)

Outwardly, my small, tribally-run community appears simplistic and idyllic. Yet at the heart lies a microcosm of the larger issues a country or government faces: division, miscommunication, fraud and deception.

This past March I met with consultants from Impulso Panama, a World Bank-backed consulting firm that analyzes and advises Panamanian businesses. Fortunately, the organization is very supportive of the indigenous plight; consulting services are 100% subsidized for indigenous-run businesses. I saw the organization as an incredible opportunity for our community-based tourism group to receive professional business guidance.

Our community consists of two principal families, therefore I asked several individuals, and members of both families, to attend our first meeting with Impulso Panama in Panama City. The meeting went incredibly well; afterwards, myself and community leaders began to work up a proposal outlining the support we’d seek from the organization.

However, much to my surprise, the members of one family decided they had other plans. Having learned in our meeting that Impulso Panama supports both individual and community-owned businesses, they created and submitted a second proposal for a separate family-owned business, almost identical in nature to the community’s tourism group. This arrangement was made without the rest of the community's knowledge or consent.

Within a few weeks time the rest of the community pieced together their separatist plan. During a follow-up visit to Impulso Panama, consultants informed us that the seceding family had made numerous visits to the office on their own, misleadingly representing their family as the only members of the community.

I was devastated. How could half of my village have done such a selfish, underhanded thing to the other half? And as the point person for the community proposal, this transgression had perpetrated behind MY back, as well. I felt personally betrayed.

This was the single most trying moment for me yet as a volunteer. Fighting back the waves of emotion, when I arrived back to the community I met privately with the succeeding family, which included the community chief. I tried my best to gently explain to the family the conflict created by these two nearly identical projects. They insisted on the succession. I had to tell the chief that I admired his family's entrepreneurial spirit and that I wished him the best of luck. Yet I also had to tactfully assert that, as a Peace Corps volunteer, my allegiance would always lie with the community-based group.

Ultimately, Impulso Panama recognized the deep community division and refused to move forward with either project until the community reached an agreement, mediated by the regional Embera cacique (head chief). My community, with both families furious at one another, has refused to discuss this. Embera Drua has great ambition and also great internal division; this has turned the community into its own worst enemy. As a result, we've missed an incredible opportunity. This has pained me every day for the past few months.

However, this experience has taught me the most impactful lesson I've learned thus far in grassroots development: I can only push my community so far. The things that I want for them are not necessarily what they want for themselves. And change can only happen when they decide to band together and initiate it. I remind myself that I'm the catalyst for change; I can't BE the change.

SUCCESS!

After a very trying March and April, on May 15th our tourism group was finally approved as a cooperative! The community is thrilled. And I was too! My months of service were spent in meetings with IPACOOP and working on the feasibility study for the cooperative. And this is such a sucess for Embera Drua. For years they had been working informally in tourism, and now they really have their own business, legal and recognized by the government.

We had a wonderful ceremony on May 15th. The director and head honchos of IPACOOP in Panama City came to the village, and we had a beautiful ceremony where they handed us our "personería jurídica" (legal recognition). They also donated a new outboard motor to the group. It was a wonderful day. And I wore a chaquira for the first time in the ceremony! I felt like a REAL Embera wera (Embera woman).

The cooperative is a huge step in setting up infrastructure for the community. Yet my biggest fear as we move forward is that the community expects the cooperative to be "the answer to all their problems." IPACOOP brings excellent trainings and pushes the need to work more organized and formally, but I'm worried that the community will quickly become discouraged if they don't see changes overnight. IPACOOP will give us some good framework. But at the same time the community needs to stay unified and work together- hard(!) and in the same direction- if they want to see a difference. I can see that this coming year will be a real challenge.

Below are some other pictures of what I've been up to:

Computer classes: our leaders typing up their own letters in Microsoft Word!

Girl's Night: I had an arts and crafts and cookie bake night night in my hut with some supplies Momma Snyder sent down to Panama.

White Water Rafting Trip, and trip to a BEAUTIFUL waterfall, on the Chiriqui River with Peace Corps friends

TEAM PANAMA 2009

I received my first friend visit! Maren Gersich, Brent Schavitz, Kevin Sproule, Cris Kodiak, Matt (Pug) Palmieri, Trey and Kate Robinson. It was a week to remember, a week for the history books.

We started out our adventure in the city. The crew whisked me away to the Marriott (the land of hot showers and Pug’s platinum membership lounge of non-stop American goodies). First day, we toured the Panama Canal and Casco Viejo (old town). Next day, we took a day trip off the coast to Isla Taboga, and spent the evening after at the causeway for dinner and drinks. We spent a few nights out tearing it up on Calle Uruguay, wrapped up in our own private dance party and playing at the casinos til dawn. After our city tour, we had a frustrating run-in with the Decameron resort in Cocle (where poor Schavitz realized he had booked us for El Salvador!) But we made the best of it, and spent the afternoon at the beach in Santa Clara and found a hole-in-the-wall, authentic Mexican restaurant with quite possibly the best jumbo margaritas and chips and salsa. Regardless of the situation or problem at hand, I don’t think I’ve ever traveled quite so smoothly with a group. I feel so fortunate to have a group of friends so laid back, up for anything and so in-sync with one another.

Our next stop: CARNIVAL. We rented a car and booked it down to the Azuero, to Las Tablas, for Panama’s most famous carnival celebration. My friend Patrick, from UW, hooked us up with his cousins and extended family who live there. They are an incredible family, the absolute epitomy of Panamanian hospitality and they went out of their way for us (Grandma even rubbed our back and fed us sancocho when we had had too much to drink). Carnival itself was unreal, a binge of drinking, dancing and complete pandemonium. We spent two days soaking wet in the calles and discotecas, wandering in the dichotomy of drag queens and Panamanian polleras. We took off for Boacs del Toro the morning after the craziness, tired and hungover, but we knew we had truly experienced Carnival in its entirety.

Our stay in Bocas del Toro was amazing. The main island, Isla Colon, feels like an overgrown fishing village, touristy but still charming and with a laid back, bohemian vibe. We stayed at a quaint little hotel in the bay of Isla Colon. The highlight of the trip was renting a boat and touring around the different islands, dolphin watching, snorkeling and surfing.

Al final, we made it up the Chagres and to Embera Drua on the last leg of our adventures. Sharing my little village with this crew was truly amazing. We ALL fit in my little hut, believe it or not! Maren, Kevin and I took over my double bed, and Trey, Kodiak, Brent and Pug somehow fit in my big room in a careful intertwining of thermarests and mosquito nets. During the day we did the tourist spiel, learning about Embera culture and watching the dances. In the afternoon the boys played soccer with the kids, everyone got painted up in jagua and even practiced their limited Spanish trying to get to know my community members (so cute!). Ending up at my village was the perfect end to a perfect week. It meant so much to me that this group took the time off their lives in Chicago, organized themselves and made it all the way out to my little haven here in the jungle of Panama. I am truly blessed to have such great people in my life.

BECOMING A JANE OF THE JUNGLE…

I’ve been working on this blog entry for months now, but each time I touch upon it, it just doesn’t come out right.

I use this blog to sum up life in PC, and my work, but how can I really explain the day-to-day of living in this little village in the jungle? They say to paint a picture is worth a thousand words. If only these stories can begin to do so….

-Not too long ago, I was pasear-ing (visiting) at my friend Andrea’s house. Suddenly, a big, black blob hit my head, fell into my lap, and then to the floor, and scurrying away. As it scurried away, I notice it’s a big, NASTY fat rat that fell from the rafters right on top of me. On putting it all together, I screamed absolute bloody murder, waking up Andrea’s 5 year-old son. Andrea’s husband, 3 grown brothers, mother and little 5 year-old just busted a gut laughing at me, spazzing and swatting helplessly into the air after the fact. Months later, its still one of their favorite stories to tell.

-The community phone is right next to my hut, and also right by my old host family’s house. Everybody makes the mad dash to answer it when it rings (how exciting!). One day, while in my host family’s house, I decided to make that dash. As I sprinted across the little wood house, with a big “CRACK,” my left leg shot right through the floorboards below me. I was completely stuck, one leg under the house, one leg inside the house, crunched between the remaining floorboards. My host mother and host sisters rushed to me and helped me out of the floor, very worried. But as soon as they patched up my leg (which later turned all shades of purple) and assured that I was ok, they died laughing. My poor host father had to cut wood to patch up the floor the next day, and he wouldn’t stand to let me help him, even with a very guilty conscience.

Where else…

-does the village pet, a giant, 20 pound iguana, eat your personal garden? I had been slaving over my little babies, tomato, pepper and cucumber sprouts, like crazy for a month. I came back from being outside the village and found big iguana-mouth sized bites out of them.

-can you have a heart-to-heart with a botanical doctor on a beach in the rainforest? I remember a day when I was feeling low (I think the village families were fighting and I was frustrated with my students). I went to the river for a time out, right around dusk. Suddenly from behind me appeared one of the village elders, our botanical doctor. Quietly, he sat beside me. After a few moments, he points up at the moon, and asks me “Alla en tu pueblo, se ve este tambien (la luna)?” (Translation: There, in your village, can you see this moon too?”) It was such a simple, honest question, and it immediately brought me back to the simplicity and serenity of this little village and its people. I quickly got over my problems, and fell back in love with Embera Drua.

Some happenings around around Embera Drua...

Septic Tank Project (fancy new bathrooms to advertise to tourists!)

English Class Graduation (I was so proud!)

Computer and Printer Donation (so exciting!)

Other fun...

Cooking an Iguana (please don't send PETA after me)

Where do you think beat up old baby carriages go? They're recycled for children's amusement in my village.

One of my favorite little faces...how I love this one. Just makes my day, every day.

CARRIBEAN VACATION! AND PC SEMINARS

At the end of January, I was lucky enough to hop on a parent funded Caribbean vacation! It was just Mom, Dad and myself, cruising the Caribbean seas for a week straight. It was really quite the shock; within just a few days I swiftly transported myself from my humble jungle abode to a vacation experience that embodied excess in every sense of the word. Shock aside, the food, booze and family time provided a much needed escape, and some time away helped me gain a bit of perspective and recharge my batteries before heading back to Panama.

Below are some picture of the trip: Mom and Dad sumo-ing in life preservers, visiting the islands of St. Maarten and Grenada, ATVing in Aruba.

Right after my vacation, I attended a Peace Corps led leadership seminar with a community counterpart in the province of Cocle. Andrea, my counterpart, is our village’s second chief, head of our women’s association and also a very close friend. Andrea had never traveled west of Pamana City, and I think the seminar really helped to open her eyes and strengthen her confidence as a leader. She’s very young (23!), but is inherently such a leader and so well respected in our village. She’s incredibly charismatic- at the seminar she made friends from across the country and even had half the ladies there up singing and dancing in Embera during the cultural exchange night! I was so proud of her, and so glad to share her and a bit of Embera Drua with other PCVs and their counterparts.