Wow, so it's been a month since I updated...I am sorry I have neglected you, my patient friends and family. A lot has happened this December. I'll give you the rundown, in list form:

1. Evey, that dog I had for a good month? Well, the past tense is the operative tense in this situation, as a pig sat on that poor dog. I am not kidding. A pig collapsed down on top of my dog and had not moved when I found her ten minutes later, despite Evey's poor, pathetic whimpering. So yeah, a pig killed my dog and we had a funeral. Here are pictures from that:


Her grave had a cross and everything, with her collar on it...it was cute, until the next day when her arm had inexplicably made it outside of her hole. So yeah, dead dog.


2. We started building my house. I'm not sure if the means of our cutting down the trees were exactly legal by Panamanian standards, but I am proud to say that despite that, I helped out and even got to use a chainsaw. More pictures!


That's my host dad, Orlando, kicking that tree's ass.


Vladimir on the left, helping out his dad Candelario. In my entire community, this family is my favorite besides my host family. I mean seriously awesome.





I mean, why wear the safety earmuff things when you can just shove leaves in your ears? This is my ten year old host brother, Orlandin.



Cesar, another son of Candelario and as such, another badass. He's hanging upside down from the truck, or Chiva.


3. We had Christmas! It was wonderful, for being away from home and not in the presence of my family. Everytime we get together like this, I realize how close I've grown to the people here and how, after two years, it's going to be impossible to say goodbye. Eighteen of us spend Christmas in El Valle de Antón, Coclé, which is essentially a beautiful area that sits in this huge crater that was created five million years ago when a volcano erupted with such force that it blew the top off. It was sort of chilly, for Panama at least, and we in Group 60 are lucky to be graced with some pretty culinarily gifted people, so we actually had a dinner that didn't consist entirely of rice.



Homemade Eggnog that could very possibly give all eighteen of us salmonella due to its containing nine raw eggs!


East of the Canal Volunteers! Deborah, who lives in Chagras in Colón, Joanna from the Darién, myself, and Jake 6'8" who lives in Changras too. Three of my favorite people ever.

4. I am trying to get shit done. I am so excited because my community is excited about the prospect of the composting latrines we're gonna start doing. We had two meetings a week for three weeks, and every family was required to attend at least once a week, every week, to be eligible for a latrine. I couldn't believe it when, after three weeks, thirteen families remained eligible. They teach us during training to expect that it will be difficult in site to engage the community members in projects, so I am beyond lucky that my community is so proactive.

Also, I've gotten to do a lot of things like cut rice down for seven hours a day, learn to dance Tipico, introduce my host family to the Wonderful World of French Toast, learn to eat fire (no, I'm not kidding, I can stick a lit match in my mouth), have my crazy neighbors attack my hair with boxes of dye, and try to attempt to start learning Kuna. Good luck with that.
Also, it is worth noting that I am more tan than I have ever been in my life, and it's December. I can't handle that.

Okay, two hours on the internet is a little bit of an overkill. Happy Holidays!

Pictures!


The tienda that my host family owns.


My extended host family (clockwise from top left): My host sister Dalquiris, Elizabeth, my host mom Jovanys, Laysa, Abdiel, Orlando, Jolanys, Katia and Francis.




This little girl is dressed up in the traditional Panamanian national dress, called a Pollera, to celebrate what I guess would have been Founders´Day in Tortí.





This kid´s name might be Alberto, or it might be Adelberto. I can´t ever remember, or really understand when they tell me. Such are the tribulations of life in Panamá.


It´s just a toy gun, mom, don't worry.


The Queen and Princess of Tortí something or another for 2007. I forgot, but you have to understand that it's not for lack of trying. It's because, during the month of November, there are literally probably eight different holidays celebrating an Independence from someone, or the flag, or Panamá in general, or whatever, and they elect a different Queen for every single one.


This is a picture of fourteen people crammed into on Landcruiser that also was carrying various boxes of what appeared to be contraband from the US Military. The guy driving the truck, Señor Lin, is the first Panamaño I can safely say I can't stand. Our encounter started off with his showing me a pistol he kept under the front seat of his car, then making me read the English manual outloud for Nightvision goggles that were originally issued, or meant to be issued, to someone in the military. Then, as the fourteen of us drove back to Quebrada Cali, he made me sit in the front seat, as opposed to letting one or two or THREE of the eight unrestrained children in the back sit up there, so he could regail me with stories about his charity work in Panamá while staring intently at my legs. Did you know Señor Lin has spent over 30,000 dollars on the pobrecitos in Panamá? Can you imagine how much he loves children, especially poor children (but not enough to let them ride in the front seat with a seat belt, while putting the gringa in the back)? If not, I'm sure I can track him down and he'll talk to you for two hours about it, while calling you joven despite your being a licenciado/a, and then he'll scoff at your attempts to talk about sustainability. I am not a fan of Señor Lin's.

Here are two pictures of this giant bug, the name for which I do not know in English, but which is called a Grilla or Griya or something like that in Spanish.
I held it in my hands for a good half an hour, and my immense fear of it shifted to something someone might feel for a pet. It doesn't bite and it looks like a leaf, and it's only scary when it's circling your head, at which point it's terrifying.



Finally, Evey, whom I am currently trying to deworm. This might be the greatest dog ever, and I am not just saying that because she is someone I can speak English to, and someone who will not judge me when I have nervous breakdowns. She truly is a hardass.

And speaking of breakdowns, this week I certainly had one. Between getting back from cold, seasonally-appropriately-climated Thanksgiving where I wore a sweatshirt every day and could speak in English, watching as five of my friends nearly got sent home and dealing with the rollercoaster of emotions that accompanied preparing to say goodbye and then suddenly welcoming them back, and not being able to express myself in Spanish still, plus the fact that my nearest English speaking neighbor is 45 minutes and a police checkpoint away, I almost went crazy. The holidays are going to be a rough time, as far as I can tell right now, and I probably bitched to my mother over the phone for a comprised three hours over the course of three days. We were told we were going to have ups and downs, and I know I just have to make it to January and I'll be okay, but December is going to be a trying, trying month. For those of you who pray, pray that my latrine proposal goes through so I have a project to work on, and for those of you who don't, try and send some good vibes or something. And call me on Christmas.

Okay. I have been sitting at the internet café, staring at this blank window in which to write for a good five or so minutes contemplating an opening sentence that would make my high school English teachers proud, and it has just only struck me that, due to Panamá, my verbal skills have severely withered away. So I have to apologize for that write off the bat.

Life in site is great and nothing is new to report, but my mother feels like maybe I should update the reading masses (which probably include not many more people than who work at Foote Hospital) on the oddities of Panamanian life that have kept me laughing in disbelief every day, and which are keeping my morale abnormally high. I swear, I am going to return to the United States and you will all be introduced to a Melissa you never thought possible. This is mainly due to the fact that my mastery of Spanish is such that I cannot express sarcasm as of yet.

So let's talk about pigs, and how, as a girl from the suburbs of Michigan, and later on Chicago, I was under the impression that pigs were kept in pens which were basically mud pits and they didn't ever get bigger than a medium sized dog. Apparenly I've been mistaken for 22 years, as there are two giant pigs at my site who roam like they own the place, who would probably be taller than me if standing on their hind legs, who collapse in whatever mud they find whenever they want (and there is mud evvvvvvvvverywhere), and who often are ridden by children and chased by dogs. This threw me off guard to begin with, especially when the pigs eat the copious amounts of trash lying around, and every time I see one, I laugh hysterically, which is leading my community to believe that I am insane.

There's also the subject of rice, and how I am physically unable to eat a pound or two of it a day, unlike my Panamanian family. Literally, imagine a box of that Instant Rice stuff and how much a cup makes in a saucepan of boiling water, and then imagine that all dumped onto one plate, add some fried meat of some sort, because other cooking methods are just too time consuming, and now imagine eating all that food. None of you could do it, and I can't either, and now the greater portion of my community thinks the Gringa has an eating disorder, which is only exacerbated by the fact that I run, or do any type of exercise, as opposed to the Panamanian women´s totally. Sendentary. Lifestyle.

Speaking of running, funny story. The kids in my community think I run bien suavecito, but maybe a little too slow, and so they took it upon themselves to coach my effort and encourage my sprinting down the Panamerican Highway to race them, after two miles of what can be best described as jogging. At first I resisted because, let's be honest, I am no World Class Athlete, but then I thought, whatever, maybe it'd be good to work on speed. So I agreed, and literally three seconds after we took off as fast as we could run, my legs gave out for no apparently reason and I bit it, face first, in the middle of the road, in front of about five ten-year-old kids, the respect of whom I'm trying to earn because I'm futiley trying to teach them English. Now I have a hugeass gash on my right leg and a completely injured ego.

Other little things, including part of my Kuna community trying as they might to convert me to Evangelicalism, the fact that making "shhhh" sounds at chickens as you wave a broom at them from thirty meters will scare them into leaving whatever surface they were currently on, and that I will always inevitably have some form of intestinal parasite because my host mother makes possibly the best juice I have ever tasted, using water that comes out of the tap a milky white, are making my life in Panamá extremely interesting, but I can't complain. I'm here, I'm relatively healthy, I am not pregnant and I speak decent Spanish, so you can all quit worrying.

Oh, also, I got a dog. Her name is Evey, and she's pretty badass, except she bites everyone and it's impossible to deflea her. My next update will include pictures, as well as what might be a detailed description of how I ruined an aqueduct or something, with my lack of math and engineering skills. International Studies students do not an Environmental Health worker make.

Pictures!

What you've all been waiting for, so get off my balls:


My favorite picture that I've taken in Panamá so far: Here is my six year old host sister, blatantly disregarding whatever disease might be festering in this dead dog and kneeling behind it with a plate of food, while Samuel drags it down the street by its leash.


Saluting the flag


Jolanys, getting her makeup did before the Tipico demonstration on Independence Day.


Tipico


Javier


Group 60 at our Despedida.


Here I am, putting art school to use as I shave the Batman Logo into the thickets of Franco's chest hair.

So, I've been in Quebrada Cali for exactly one week today, and it's going a lot quicker than I had expected. We've already set up English classes, which are going to be interesting as I have to teach them three times a week to groups of varying ages, th Panamanian educational system has ill-prepared them for such frivolous things as verb conjugations, and oh yeah, I am not a trained ESL teacher. Also, we've already got a directiva, which I guess is the equivalent of a board of directors, to start the Latrine project. My life has gone from twelve hours worth of sleep a night to being divided into little squares of time throughout the week: Tuesdays and Fridays, teach English from 9-1 in the school; Saturdays is adult English from 4-6; Run before nine every morning; Gather around the TV at the tienda with the rest of the community to watch Madre Luna and Dame Chocolate every night from 7-9. Time's going pretty fast and before I know it, I'll be departing on a twelve hour bus trip to Thanksgiving.

Despite the haste at which time is moving, I do get homesick every now and then. For example, take the other day. I was staring (literally, wide eyes, mouth agap) at the stars in the sky that I haven't seen in the last four years, when I caught sight of a northbound plane. I don't know if that plane was going to Mexico or Cuba or Nicaragua or London, but I do know that I got a little teary-eyed about the fact that the only thing keeping me apart from my family and friends back home was the fact that I was not on that plane, or any plane, headed toward the United States. It took a second, but then I realized that more than just that airplane would head back to the US in my lifetime, and that I had approximately 200 English classes to teach over the next two years.

Also, I would never leave my community due to their sheer niceness. My host mother, Jovanys, whom I have only lived with for a week, told me the other day that she would miss me when I change houses at the end of November. I am going to miss her family too, as the other two families are considerably more reserved, but then I remembered, again, that she owns the Tienda where Dame Chocolate is shown every night, and I cannot miss what will unravel with our heroes Rosita/Violeta and Bruce, and whether Angél will keep the secret that he knows. (For those of you who receive Telemundo or TV Azteca, I suggest you search for this show, as it is ridiculously addictive.)

Other than TV, English and Latrine meetings, my time has been spent attending and subsequently dancing at the Independence Day festival, which was both fun and awkward as I avoided the borrachos who made it known that they wanted to dance with La Gringa, despite her inability to move her hips in a proper Panamanian fashion, and also going to the hospital in Cañita, where the head cashier guy made notice of my calves and suggested that someone pop them because they look a little inflated, until my counterpart and I informed him that no, those were normal calves. So yeah, that's what's been going on. If you've read this far, congratulations. Now for what everyone has been demanding, in ways somewhat insensitive to the fact that I do not have the internet at my every day disposal: pictures. Okay, I lied, pictures are being a little bitch, but give me a while and they'll be up. I PROMISE.

Soy una voluntaria...

(In advance, I have to apologize that this post is not only boring, but also lacking pictures. I am running on four hours of sleep...give me a break.)

I can't believe it, but we, the group of engineers, economists and those of us with little to no qualification, such as myself, have completed ten weeks of arduous training and as of Thursday night, swore in to become full-fledged Peace Corps volunteers. It absolutely does not feel like it's been ten weeks since I stepped off the plane into the suffocating humidity of Panamá, with 41 other people I barely knew and who intimidated the hell out of me. Now, a month and a half later, I had to hold back tears as I said goodbye to the last three volunteers left standing at Playa Sta. Clara.

The ceremony itself was nice. Nothing huge, attended by other volunteers in country, the American ambassador and a couple of representatives from the Panamanian government. We all stood up, said our names, states of origin, where we would be living and in what sector we worked, and rose our right hands to repeat the oath that I guess officially clinched the deal. It was also the first time since arrival in Panamá that I have seen the entire group cleaned up and in dresses, ties and button down shirts, and everything ironed. We clean up nicely, but I didn't take my camera along, so pictures will be up when I can steal them from other people.

Of course, with swearing in came the after party that ended up lasting three days. To celebrate our triumph, the group headed out to the beach, where we all got dressed up for Halloween. There were some pretty ingenious costumes that, as soon as I can steal some pictures from someone else, I will post them. The whole weekend was great, and a nice end to our training session, but now I am sitting here in Panama City, waiting to face the inevitable awkwardness that is going to define the next three months in my site, or until I can build my own house. But, when it comes down to it, the first three months of 27 are done...that's a little over ten percent of my service, which is bad ass. I have no clincher or anything witty to say as a termination to ths entry, so I will leave it with, WRITE ME, I am sorry about how exhausted I am that this is not that interesting, and I will update you all in a week, ma' o meno', with fotos.

Site Visit!

First, some fairly bad pictures.

This is the sitting area/porch/living room where I stayed at my site.


This parrot would not shut up, at even the most asinine of hours.


Two of the cutest kids ever, Luci and Jahir, the latter of whom's name I just slaughtered.

So I just got back from spending a week where I'll be living for the next two years and I am not kidding when I tell all of you that I won the site lottery. It's true that I don't have electricity (which is no surprise), and the water is hardcore unpotable (or is it impotable?), and all of the pit latrines fill with water every time it rains and are inhabited with enough cockroaches to force me to get over my ridiculous fear, but none of that matters.

I spent this week with the an amazing community of about three hundred Latinos, plus a community of about one hundred Kunas, who are famous for these beautiful molas they create (google image it, I don't have a picture), plus a couple families of Emberá, PLUS a family of Ngöbes. My community is like a little United Nations, where the UN consistent of solely cultures from Panamá, and what was pleasantly surprising is that all four got along fairly harmoniously.

We spent the week doing what they do every day, and I'm not going to lie, the pace of life is mindnumbingly slow, but I suppose I will be getting rid of my Type A personality over the next couple of years. I visited with almost every family in that town, met the family with whom I will be living for the first month (as I've elected to switch families once a month until I can live on my own), and fielded some pretty interesting questions about the United States [i.e. "Poverty doesn't exist in the United States, right?", "How much is it to fly from the US to Panamá, like one hundred dollars?", "The distance from New York to Chicago is like from here to the City, right?" (or in other words, a 2 1/2 hour drive)]. Additionally, an effort has already initiated to find me a boyfriend ("do you want a white one, like yourself, or someone a little darker?"), despite my protests over and over.

We also had a meeting to discuss what they wanted to work on over the next two years, during which I was shocked and amazed, as they approached me about the construction of composting latrines because they knew that they reduced disease, could be used for fertilizer, etc, and about doing something about the filtration of the water from the aqueduct. I am not kidding, I about fell out of my chair.

Some other awesome things about the site are: electricity is coming, as election year is 2009 and the politicos are trying to win votes with public service. Also, I have to build my house, which is hilarious because I am the farthest thing from an architect ever, but it will be cheaper in the long run and I will be able to have a penca roof and a concrete floor and hammocks. AND I'm getting a dog. I don't even care. But now I have to end this, as here I sit in Albrook mall, once again, and I'm going to go buy some ridiculous thing to wear for Halloween.

After two weeks of hauling ass around Panamá, we are finally, FINALLY done with tech and culture week, and I am really happy about that. We only really have about three weeks left of training, including our site visit, during which we get to visit the place in which we'll be working, and then we swear in. I just want to drop all my bags down somewhere and not have to carry them anywhere else for the next two years, after these last two weeks.

Culture week, however, was way, way cooler than tech week, at least in my opinion. I headed out to the Darién with Joanna, Jake, Deborah, and for a brief time, Justin (who ended up being the third ET in our sector) and chilled with the Emberás and Wounnan for six days. It wasn't exactly pertinent to my site or what I'll be doing over the next two years, as my site is Latino and Kuna, but it was good insight.

For example, we met a medicine man, who gave us a brief "charla" on various medicinal propeties of various medicinal plants around the site. The first was a plant that, if the authorities are looking for you for anything, especially the trafficking of drugs (because this is the Darién), you put it on your hand, then shake their hand, and they immediately forget about the pursuit, and care so little about finding you that you could "sit down and have coffee with them." The other plant he told us about was this striped one that, when you used it, turned you into a tiger. That way you could hunt, and when your rational Tiger Mind deemed it necessary to return to human status, you just took your paw, rubbed the counter-medicine on yourself, and you'd change back. When asked if he'd ever attempted this transformation, however, the medicine man said no, because it's "too dangerous."

We also got painted with Jagua, which is this black substance that comes out of some fruit, and doesn't go way for two weeks. That was pretty sweet. It'll be especially sweet walking around my latino community with this indigenous painting, even though my host mother told me all the "indios are alcoholics." It'll warrant acceptance.

The kids also lovvvved us. Jake, being 6'8", was constantly being stared at, and when we were asked why we as Americans are so tall, we took the opportunity to tell them that it was because, in the United States, we don't ever eat any candy or drink coffee, and only eat fruits, vegetables, lean meats and dairy products. This was mainly in response to the fact that the families in this community, and others, start off feeding their kids coffee as soon as they're weaned (Franco, who is sitting next to me, just laughed at the word "weaned" because he is a twelve year old). They also were really intrigued with my coral necklaces (the teal and red ones), and my "ojitos bien azules", which I guess means my really small, really blue eyes. I also bathed via a bucket, standing in the middle of a community, in all my clothes, trying harder than hell to be discreet as eight million kids watched me. The whole week was a lot of fun, even though my host family consisted of more screaming children, meaning I didn't sleep.

After Culture Week, we all chilled in Panamá the City for a while, and went to some bar calledUnplugged which was apparently supposed to be reminiscent of the show on MTV, and the next morning got crepes and waffles at a place called Crepes and Waffles, and paid six dollars for our hotel room per person, because five of us were crammed into a three person room and basked in the glory of frigid air conditioning and showers with HOT WATER AND PRESSURE. Good times.

Finally, and perhaps most importantly for all of you, I got a cell phone and its number is 6777-4636. Eight numbers. Get yourselves all int'l calling cards and get on calling me (add 011 infront of the number), because incoming calls to me are free for me, and you're all making more than the ten dollars a day that I will be.

I'm updating this from Santiago, Veraguez, while my clothes are at the lavamático being scoured of their mildew smell that they accumulated over what was the busiest week ever. And it's not over yet.

This last week was tech week, which meant the nineteen remaining EH volunteers headed out to the Ngäbe site Cerro Iglesias, where we proceeded to construct five composting latrines throughout the community. The basic concept of composting latrines is that you create a two-chambered block construction and put two toilet seats (one per chamber) on the top. You use the first chamber for six months, and use two different parts of the seat--one for when you piss and one for when you shit. After you're done, you put sawdust over whatever solid waste you've just produced, and continue to use that chamber until it fills, and then let it sit for six months, after which you should have straight up compost for a garden of some sort. It's an important concept here in Panamá, especially where water tables are high, as it eliminates risk for fecal-oral disease transmission, etc. etc. This may sound strange, but if you're planning on coming to visit me, you'd better get used to the idea, as I'm building one for my eventual house.

We also got to stay with a Ngäbe host family, which was interesting, but I am glad I'm being sent to a Latino site. The Ngäbe women have a lot of pena, which basically means they're shy and look down at the ground, and since I'm shy and look down at the ground when I first meet people, I probably wouldn't get shit done. HOWEVER, we almost didn't get there at all because our Chiva never showed up, and when one did, we broke down somewhere on the mountain and had to evacuate out because of this cloud of opaque white smoke. Then, as we were leaving the site, the other Chiva didn't show up, meaning we hiked for a while, which would have been fine except my Teva broke and I had to hike barefooted.

Now we're all in transit to culture week, where I, along with four other people, will spend the next five days at an Emberá site in the Darién learning the language and getting painted and awesome shit like that. I also get to stay in Panamá for a night and pick up a cell phone and go to Riba Smith, which is Panamá's answer to Whole Foods.

Finally, for anyone in Chicago, especially if you go to Columbia, read "The Time Traveler's Wife", which was written by some professor there, and which mentions places like Berlin and the Western stop on the Brown Line and the Newberry Library and Smartbar and Belmont throughout the entire thing. I read it this last week and it made me homesick as hell.

I miss you all and apologize for this insanely boring entry. You'll probably get one tomorrow with my cell phone number on it though, so everyone go out and buy an international phone card, because incoming calls are free for me!

Oh man. Lots of stuff.

So Wednesday was the big day for all of us, when we went to Chorrera to find out site placements. The powers that be thought it would be fun to put that as the last event of the day, so the majority of us spent the hours of 9-3 in a semi-state of panic, or wanting to vomit, or both. FINALLY, three oclock rolled around, and they pulled out this giant map with all these blue and yellow stars on it (blue for EH, yellow for CED) . My name was the second called, and while I can't list the actual name of it on this blog for a number of different reasons, I can tell you that it's in Panama Este, right across the street from a Kuna community and right off the Interamerican Highway. I'm the second farthest east, and I have water, I'm 3.5 hours away from the city, there's a possibility that I can get electricity and it's Latino. I'm so ye-ye. If you want to know the name of the site, ask my mom and she'll let you know.

I am, however, a half a country to a country away from a lot of my good friends, but that's what the public transportation system is for. So anyway, a huge weight has been removed from our shoulders and due in part to that, plus the fact that it was Lisa's birthday, we celebrated with Panamá beer and lots of cheap wine. Good times.

In other news, a bunch of other trainees and I played a bunch of Panamanians in a game of softball. It was close, but in the last inning, we came back with five runs and oh hey, I hit two into left field and made a pretty decent catch in right field. Dad, you would have been proud of my ability to retain those middle school skills. That game was to warm up for our cross-sectoral, cross-cultural softball tournament in October, which we had better win.

Culture and Training weeks are coming up in two days. All the EH volunteers are heading out to David or Chiriqui or somewhere in the west to build latrines for four days, and then we have a sector conference in Veraguas I think, and then I head back the hell out east to the Darién for Culture Week, which is going to be really cool because I get to get painted black by the Emberá. Look up a picture for now, but my mom is being awesome and sending me means by which I can post pictures on this thing, so it won't be too long before you actually get to SEE what is up.

I have ridiculous chiggers all over my legs. You should probably look up what a Bot fly is and the process of removal of a larvae from your skin and then you will have an inkling of the fears I am dealing with on a daily basis regarding the infestation of bugs into my subcutaneous layer. However, in good news, chiggers can be killed by liberally slathering clear nailpolish onto your body, because this apparently suffocates the little shits. I don't know what happens to their carcasses.

Sally Muterspaugh has claimed the month of March as when she is going to visit me, so if you want to visit, you need to do it in a month other than March, or coordinate with her so you're not here at the same time or something, because I am not hosting two people at once, and my mom goes first.

Did I mention I am currently updating this thing from a supermarket? True story. And now I have to be on my way, because I am freezing and because we are never going to get back to Santa Clara at this rate. I love you all!

First, hey family!

We lost ANOTHER person. Stephanie left for good to be with her grandma in Chicago, which leaves six EH girls to balance shit out. It sucks that all the good people are ETing.

This weekend was pretty busy, as it was the first time we as individuals ventured out into Panamá outside of the protective wing of the Peace Corps administration. Whitney and I embarked on our 11 hour journey to the Comarca Ngöbe-Bugle, which entailed a four and a half hour boat trip in this ridiculous canoe that was about forty feet long by four feet wide, equipped with ten bench seats, none of which were built to accommodate 5'7" me and 5'11" Whitney. We visited two volunteers, Andrea and Julie, and watched as they put on a simultaneous volleyball tournament/health ed charla on HIV/AIDS and the use of condoms. It was pretty crazy, the amount of information these women didn't know, but I guess that's why we're here. We also baked brownies on a stove, ate raw sugar cane, and took a bath in a river, until the current stole the soap from Whitney.

We ventured off to Las Lajas the next day, where you'll all be proud (especially you, grandma) to know I learned how to play both "asshole" and Flip Cup, for the first time ever, college included. We drank this sickass drink, seco, which is derived from sugar cane and taste like rubbing alcohol, and I came back with bites up and down my legs from whatever insects live in the sand.

Not much else has been going on, especially in the training community. Next Wednesday we find out where in Panamá we're going, and I'm 99.9% sure I'm heading to the Darién, much to my mother's chagrin, but there's also a decent chance I will have either water or electricity, or both. It's nervewracking, but it will be nice to know whether or not I'm going to be dying of sweltering humidity over the next two and a half years.

This upcoming Sunday is Family Night. I doubt Í'll be doing more than meeting with the latrine committee, as my host mother has some crazy, swollen back foot with an enlarged toenail that is oozing something, and for some reason this prevents her from ever moving. Thus, Sunday will probably involve watching the Spanish dubbed version of My Boss's Daughter, starring cinematic masters Tara Reid and Ashton Kutcher.

If you're planning on sending me books, as previously requested, and I hope you are, you should know not to send me A Farewell to Arms (Hemingway) or Man Without a Country (Vonnegut), as I've finished them both. Also, you should all know that before I left, I saw the preview for the movie adaptation of Kite Runner and it made me kind of cry, so you should all see it and report back to me about whether or not it sucked.

This week marked the first casualty of Early Termination (henceforth known as ETing, and appreciate these paranthetical statements, because it's harder than hell to find proper punctuation on this keyboard). It kind of sucks, especially since she was an EH volunteer and losing her brings the female count down one more, as we are constantly and mercilessly surrounded by guys who would like to think they oozed testosterone (whether or not this is actually true is, on occasion, debatable).

This week also marked our first venture into el Ciudad de Panamá. Now, I know I am constantly comparing all of my huge and worldly traveling experience with that of México, but I honestly wasn't that impressed. It was just a bunch of unsightly architecture that was half finished. Thus, we spent most of our time in this ridiculous mall with ridiculously expensive stores for our 3 dollars a day budget. I have to say, I like our host site, in all its rural glory, much better.

Spanish class has come screeching to a halt as my class and the class of geniuses above us embark on projects and abandon our studies. I am the weakest link, language wise, and I am working with three guys (Pete, Nelson and Franco) to construct a compost latrine in a poorer part of our host site. On the one hand, it will be good to pick up technical Spanish, and I'm really sick of spending four hours a day listening to how to construct the grammatically perfect Spanish sentence, but on the other hand, I'm working with three guys, one of whom studied abroad in Argentina and is fluent, and one of whom speaks like four hundred different languages that I refuse to keep track of (that would be Franco, whose blog has thusly been added to the side bar). But intimidation is overrated, so I am just going to listen and build and speak when I know what's going on, and everything is going to be great.

Also, I am not ETing. Because I love Panamá. Seriously.

Next week we Aspirantes (trainees) are embarking on volunteer visits to various sites. I am going to a Comarca in Bocas Del Toro, and I'm pretty excited about it. I keep reevaluating my preferences toward my site in my head, and have come up with a whole slew of new options. We'll see how the site visit goes, and on the 12th I will know where I am going to spend the next two years. Sweet.

On a side note, I've taken up running. Who saw that coming...no one?

That is all for today. Pictures will come when I find my USB cord, which could be never, but I also might buy one of EBay.

WRITE ME LETTERS AND SEND ME BOOKS THAT ARE WRITTEN IN ENGLISH. AND NOT SHITTY BOOKS EITHER.

We´ve been at our host site for almost a week now, and even though I´ve definitely had thoughts of coming straight back home throughout all seven days, things are looking up "poco a poco." Yes, it´s been hard getting used to peeing into a five gallon bucket set on top a hole in the ground, and yes, my diet consists almost entirely of simple starches with some chicken thrown in, and yes, the humidity is enough to kill us all, but on the flip side of that, I have an amazing host family, I´ve made some amazing friends, and even though I know nothing about building aqueducts and would probably construct something structurally unsound for a community, I´ve definitely been inspired to start thinking of some project ideas of my own. Also, we´ve marched through ridiculous tall grass, and climbed a veritable mountain to the sources of aqueducts around the region and I, unfailingly, asked stupid questions because I don´t really "get it." We also got taught how to use a machete today, so watch out. It´s like arming me with something.

It´s also tough getting used to the constant, accent-tinged Spanish that is unceasingly spoken (and who would expect any differently?). Panamanians don´t use the letter S in their speech, so "mas o menos" becomes kind of a slurred "ma o me'o". That´s pretty difficult to understand speaking Spanish almost exclusively with a bunch of Mexicans, an Ecuadorian and a Spaniard, but somehow, I fooled everyone and got placed into the second highest class, under the native speakers, where, SURPRISE, we went over the preterit and imperfect again, for the 400000 time in my life.

This upcoming week we´re going to visit some volunteers around the country. I am headed out to the Bocas Del Toro region to a Ngöbe comarca, which should be interesting. Then next week, we have our second interview and THEN, our site placements.

Also, I saw a huge ass cockroach climbing around the kitchen the other day, and every night some giant bug that´s trying to kill me flies around in the rafters, beating its ridiculous wings for all to hear. I haven´t freaked out yet, but again, it can´t be worse than peeing into a bucket.

More to come as the days pick up!

Hey everyone!

I've been in Panama for two days now, and it's already so amazing. My co-Peace Corps people, the staff, the country, the food...it's great, and simultaneously exhausting.

Yesterday we got in-country at around 9:00pm, only to be told that there was a tsunami scare due to an earthquake off the coast of Peru that registered as a 7.9 on the Richter. Luckily for me and too bad for some other people, the wave went toward Hawaii instead, so no worries there. The flights, however, were surprisingly easy, which is hilarious considering I am the worst flier ever, but I think the fact that I was going to Panama for two years overshadowed any fear I had about dying in a plane crash.

Today was ridiculously busy. We had a Spanish test to place us into whatever group of Spanish we need to be in, and we also talked to our sector directors about site placement. I'm not going to lie...I requested a Spanish speaking site and told them that if I had amenities, I definitely WOULDN'T be disappointed, which is contrary to what everyone else wants. Also, my skill set lies almost exclusively in the area of HIV/AIDS and hygiene education, so I'm probably going to end up being a teacher for the next two years, and learn to pour cement on the side.

The people I'm here with are SO great. Everyone is from all over the country, and from all walks of life. I've already made some pretty close ties with a lot of people, and have already acquired the new nickname "Melmo," which is an amalgamation of Jon Zande's "Mel" and the Loyola girls' "Mo." Also, apparently my last name is easier to pronounce by those who speak Spanish than by those who speak English, and they've pronounced it perfectly every time.

Today I am exhausted because we had this swim test, where we swam a whole length doing the breast stroke, a length of the back stroke, and a length of side stroke, then swam ten minutes straight, and THEN were instructed on how to remove our clothing while in the water and create a flotation device out of the legs of our jeans, meaning I had to jump in a pool fully clothed. It was hard as hell, but I guess a good bonding experience.

The food is good, but I have had rice and either beans or lentils twice today already. Also, I don't have to get a smallpox vaccine! Just yellow fever and some other random one. That's good.

Finally, it is hot as balls here, and really humid too, but surprisingly tolerable. We all have to wear business casual (or business cas, or biz cas, or bc depending on who you're talking to) to everything, so I've been sporting my black Gap dress that looks like I'm pregnant. However, it is so humid that every time I walk outside from our airconditioned apartment (because yeah, we have a/c right now), my glasses fog right the hell up.

So, in ending, Panama is thus far amazing, the Peace Corps is thus far the best decision I have ever made, but I still miss you all. REMEMBER TO WRITE!

Buenas noches!

Well, here we go!

I'm back in Michigan, which is too bad, and my immense dislike of this state is only punctuated by the fact that it's been raining all day today.

More than that, though, it would appear as though my dad didn't know that I am leaving on the 13th, and went and admitted himself to the hospital for medication change, with the understanding that he'd be out in ten days. Hilariously, ten days translates to three weeks at the VA, so he's not going to be out to see me off, most likely. I mean, and that's cool, I'd rather he take initiative to get himself healthy again, at least relatively, but it still sucks that the last time I'll see my dad for two and a half years is at the psychiatric ward of the VA hospital. Depressing.

ANYWAY. I decided that I'm not staying in Michigan for any duration of time once I'm out, and that I'm moving back to Chicago, to do God knows what with my Really Marketable Degree. This'll probably translate to keeping my loans in deferment while I take classes at Truman or something.

Gifts for my host family = acquired. A coffee table book full of pretty beautiful photography of Michigan (which can be gorgeous mainly if there's no NASCAR race in town), a puzzle if there are some little kids and Uno if there are older kids. I figure that covers the spectrum pretty well. Also, my mom is really excited about the prospect of sending me "educational supplies" that she finds at the dollar store. Like flashcards for multiplication tables.

If someone knows how to assign power of attorney for both financial and medical purposes, without getting forty dollar forms off the Office Max website, can you let me know?

Just one week left.

It sucks because, while I'm so amped to leave, I had to start saying my goodbyes on Thursday.

I saw Ellen for the last time in two and a half years, but CERTAINLY not forever, Thursday night. She'd gone out for drinks with us after Spanish, and I'm sure that alcohol had something to do with it, but she teared up when we parted ways, and then I teared up, and then blamed it entirely on her and her actress nature, but man am I gonna miss being around someone that gets even more worked up about politics than I do. At one point on Thursday, I thought she was going to attack Joel from across the table. That's intense. ELLEN I LOVE YOU AND I WILL SEE SICKO AS A TRIBUTE.

I also had to start saying goodbye at work, to Tavi and Roy, working with Juan and being "managed" by Carl. I'm not gonna lie, I had to hold back the tears after I gave Carl a hug and Roy then told me that I wasn't "allowed" to leave. Damnit, Uno's, I hate that I love you so much.

I also hate that I have to be there again in six hours and I'm not asleep yet. Uh...

Staging!

My staging kit came in the mail today...

Washington D.C.! We're staying at a super-classy, airport Holiday Inn on top of that. I pretty much cannot wait for the tacky comforters, sweet fake-gold guilding on the mirrors, and the complimentary shampoo that I'll borrow, as hello, those are bottles that hold less than 3 oz. What's up, carry-on hygienic products.

In the meantime, one of the girls in my Spanish class decided to inform me that, having grown up in Guatemala, she'd been to Panama and it was "the dirtiest of the Central American countries." I'm totally not going to let that get me down though. I'll embrace the dirty. Except for probably not, because I'm a maniac about hygiene, but then again, apparently part of my job description is hygiene education, so maybe that's a good thing?

I DO know that I have absolutely nothing to say at this very moment, and that I'm the worst blog-keeper ever. Stick around though, as I'm sure things'll get more interesting as Spanish becomes the necessary tool for communication and I end up saying something stupid and insulting an entire country/people/culture inadvertantly. Fun times!

For now, however, I'm going to regress to the reading level of a ten year old, and go pick up the last Harry Potter book. Whatever, don't judge.

One month away

Oh hey guys. I created a blog for the Peace Corps. It doesn't happen for a month, but I figure I'd better start documenting things now, since I'm pretty sure that tomorrow I'm going to have a nervous breakdown about things I still need to buy, things I'd still like to buy, the remainder of my bills, cleaning my apartment and packing. I have half the money saved up that I'd like to, and I'll reach my goal if the remainder of my time at Uno's isn't characterized by serving cheap, angry people.

In wrapping up this inaugural post, the purpose of which is nothing more than to test and make sure everything's working, I request that, if any of you are cleaning out your closet and trying to get rid of TShirts, to send them my way instead of throwing them out.

Also, I hear it is customary to gift my host family upon arrival to Panama. If anyone has any ideas as to what to bring to said family that is not a perishable and not outside the realm of my budget, let me know. The Peace Corps cites good gifts as postcards, local foods (like, maple syrup if I were from Vermont...not perishable...or Cajeta if I were from Guanajuato, etc), little cheap toys for kids, trinkets characteristic of my hometown/region, etc. I'm bad enough at buying for my little brother.