Death in Chorrera on a Rainy Day

I've faltered in my post writing for about a week and a half now and I'm sorry. I've been busy. Really busy and tired. Much has happened of great interest but due to time available I'm going to have to give you the condensed version.

Starting with last week, I got really sick again and projectile vomited all over my host families front porch. I'm talking a lot too. I had stuffed my face with donuts and cake all day had 3 large meals. All to end up ant food. It was a bad one, but luckily I was able to avoid an I.V. This time which I was pleased about. Marta, my host mom, pretty much saved my life and not only made me soup but mixed my re-hydration salts for me. This was key because moving from my bed meant automatic vomit and I had had enough. I lost two days of training and another couple pounds but I recovered.

I came home from training the next day to find one of the directors and the Admin on my porch. We were all being shipped to one of the most remote and harsh climates in Panama and they wanted to make sure I was going to hold up. I should note that I've already gotten violently ill in Panama twice during training and it's now a running joke that I'm going to placed directly into a hospital for my entire service. It was insisted upon that I pack some things and go with them to the hospital to get checked out so I did. After a short ride to the city it was determined that I was dehydrated and allergic to burning trash. I don't think I needed another doctors to tell me that, but I took my 3 prescriptions for allergies with a  smile and stayed in Panama City for “observation” at what I would call a shit hole hotel in the states, but a 3 star hotel here in Panama. The TV was smaller than my computer screen and at one point my door got stuck closed which worried me encase their was a fire. Of course if there was a fire everything is made from concrete (including the beds apparently) so I'm guessing it wouldn't be too much of problem.

I had to wake up really early the next day to catch a bus to the Terminal and then to Chorrera where class was being held for the day this annoyed me. I hate Chorrera, but I hate waking up early even more and I ended up getting terrible sleep that night so this made things significantly worse for my mood and health. I woke up at about 5:45 and returned my key and remote downstairs at the front desk which is conveniently located next to what looks like what was supposed to be an elevator but is instead a gigantic gaping hole into an elevator shaft that was never built. Asking several different people where the bus stop for Chorrera was located became a challenge. People will never tell you that they don't know where something is located here. They will always tell you something even if it is completely wrong and they know it. After waiting for an hour I finally asked a police officer where to get the bus.  After the 20 minute walk in the opposite direction I got on the packed bus and rested my head on the seat in front of me.

Death in Chorrera

After 2 hours of traffic I arrived in Chorrera late for class. I had an excuse, but didn't want to miss any more class than I had too. I jumped off the bus on to the hot wet streets of Chorrera and began to move quickly up the uneven segments of concrete that in some cases resemble what a sidewalk might look like after a major earthquake. It was only after about five minutes of dodging 2 foot deep pot holes and significantly malnourished dogs looking for a meal that I noticed a police officer out of the corner of my eye standing in the street. I didn't think much about it so I cautiously started to walk across the street. I noticed others starring at the officer and this sparked my curiosity even more so crossed the street and looked back.

On the ground next to the police officer was a bum or what looked to be bum. The mans clothes dirty and torn and next to him lye his hat. With cars swerving around the two honking their horns and most people not giving more than a glance at the scene you would think this was a simple arrest or maybe a traffic stop. It wasn't. The man was bleeding from the head. As the thick red blood poured from the man's head his moans went unattended to and I started to feel sick again. He was dying and no one was concerned. The officer stood above the bleeding man with a confident look on his face careful not to get blood on his shoes. I could only ask myself; Did I not understand what was going here? Was there something I was missing? Did this man do some terrible crime and deserve what he got? Did he get hit by a car and this was the usual response?

The fact remains that I don't and will never know what precluded this scene. I only know that a man was spilling blood from his head rapidly on the very concrete I had seen 3 legged dogs get kicked in the stomach and raw sewage spill from within the crack of the concrete. This was no place to die under any circumstances. Not like this and not this way. Not in Chorrera. But I digress. I'm a gringo and can only use my gringo logic to understand the situation.

I finished walking to class and arrived late with the gruesome scene rolling off of my tongue to anyone who would listen. I started to feel sick again and I knew that this was the kind of sick that would not go away for awhile. I now had lesson plans to learn and presentations to give. The sour feeling in my stomach soon went away, but the look on the mans face as he lay dying and moaning for help has not faded in the least bit.

It rained that day with more force than I had ever seen. I went back to the spot where the man had been just hours before expecting to see some trace of blood or a chalk line. The rains had washed away all signs of any evil. Rivers of water filled the streets and mass amounts of trash started to collect on top of sewage grates. I started to feel sick again and got out of the rain. I was about to spend a week in some of the harshest territory that the Peace Corps volunteers here have to face and couldn't afford to be sick. I needed to start thinking about myself.

I didn't want to get blood on my shoes either...  

 

Only One Bad Day

I came close to giving up today and I'm not sure why. This blog is subject to be read by the Peace Corps staff so saying this could be detrimental to my placement but screw it. I had a bad morning. It's actually not the Peace Corps' fault. I woke up to my host my screaming something in a different language to me (I'm guessing in Spanish) and all I could make out of it was that I had 15 minutes.  I looked at my clock and could only express my feeling by yelling “shit” as loud as I could. I set my alarm wrong and had 5 minutes to get ready. Getting ready and stuffing my backpack with things I may or may not have needed was no problem. Trying to explain to my host mother that I could not eat breakfast was one though. She talked about it all day and finally made me drink the coffee she had made for me at about 7 at night.

I made it to class just in time dripping of sweat and my right foot burning with pain from a broken bone somewhere in the middle of it and a massive cut on the heal I received from swimming in the river a couple days ago. Training is brutal. Not because its hard. Almost the opposite. There is just a lot of information and I have a very very short attention span. Blame it on my personality type and the fact that I haven't been prescribed any Ridilin or Adarol in my lifetime when I almost certainly need both at the same time. Sitting in the heat wearing a long sleeve shirt and pants with an ailing foot and terrible allergies is bad enough. Add information sessions on the differences between teaching classes in the states compared to Panamanians and the thought of eating a bullet for lunch sounds good. Once again, its not their fault. We need to know this information and they have done their homework on how to present it to us. We did get to visit a school today and watch how the classrooms are facilitated. That part was interesting and definitely helped me understand what I'm going to be dealing with in the classroom.

Then there was the language interview I was supposed to have today. The one that determines how well our language acquisition is going. I wrote down the wrong time and when one of the staff reminded me that I was 2 hours late for my appointment I proceeded to walk 15 minutes to the wrong place. They decided to drive me to the place after I returned with a puzzled look on my face. So I had not eaten, was drenched in sweat and was now being recorded to determine if I had learned any new Spanish in a month. Lets just say that I think I might have dropped a level since my last language interview after today. I have been trying to study more, but my interview sure did not show off my best Spanish. I could barely speak English.

I keep telling myself that in less than 6 weeks I will be in my own community solving my own problems and doing my own work. My Spanish needs to get better though. Fast. And I'm pretty sure I'm on the shit list for my screw up with the language interview so hopefully they don't decide to give me the worst assignment ever. At this rate I'm going to be working in the mall as a greeter.

Other news:

I'm growing a mustache or what a 12 year old would call a mustache. I came up with a mustache challenge to see who can grow the shittiest one. I think I'm already winning.

I seem to be spending an awful amount of time thinking about how I'm going to build a hot water shower catchment system for my site. I think my friend Serena made one for herself in Hawaii so maybe I can convince her to send me the plans. I really really miss hot showers and actually waited 2 days to take a cold one which is forever here. I just hate cold showers. And when I say shower I mean bucket of water. The locals rinse off 3 times a day sometimes because its so hot and sweaty. I did walk in the rain within that 2 days so I count that.

I also ran out of cash which means that I have to use the ATM for the first time. If for some reason my card doesn't work in the ATM then I could be screwed. I need to buy boots for our tech training in the indigenous community next week and will probably need to eat something on the trip too which could be a problem. Lets pray....

The Hammok

I've been trying to study Spanish for the last couple hours and have found it impossible. I just can't focus enough to actually sit in one spot and learn one thing. I need stimulation. I would like to additionally point out that many distractions are keeping me from my Spanish learning goal. I've tried climbing the hill or the “make out mound” as one of the volunteers like to call it although no one has made out there. That didn't work. Kids swarmed me and demanded things of me that I could not provide.

What kind of car I drove.

Don't have one.

Where I got my haircut and how much it cost.

My host mother for free.

If I had a girlfriend or kids.

None. Thank god or “gracias dio”

And if I had a coloring book.

No. I have no coloring book and I'm not really sure why you would think that because I'm an North American that I would have a coloring book.

And then they wanted me to gift them my Sierra Nevada pen.

Sure. Gift me your shoes. I think its a fair trade.

They didn't get the joke and at this time I tried explaining to them that we were volunteers which meant we don't make any money. I also tried telling them that in the states I worked with computers and one out of the five knew what that was. They might have seen one on TV somewhere. It was at this point a stray dog with a raging boner tried mounting my back and they thought that was hilarious. After they got bored of me not giving them things and dogs not humping me they commenced operation throw dirt at the gringo and my study time was officially over.

Moments later I've decided to make the hammock my new home. I've whipped out my flash cards and  and ready to start studying but dinner awaits me. No need to worry though, my host mom doesn't mind serving my customary ham and cheese sandwiches along with fresh fruit nectar while I'm hammocking it up. Nobody else uses the table to eat anyways and my days of being polite are long gone. I'm not going to worry about where I'm going to eat when there are piles of trash in the corner that smell of piss, ants crawling everywhere, and my little host brother eating while flat on his back on the couch. I don't even know how that is possible but he finds a way to pull it off every time. Side note: I asked him why instead of eating a real dinner, he chooses to opt for the ice cream and jello. He looked at me and walked away. I would have chased after him but I cramming ham and cheese sandwiches in mouth on the hammock and couldn't be bothered.

I was soon served my ice cream in sugar bowl cone with jello without having to leave the hammock again. I had eaten my nutritional cheese and bread dinner unlike Abel so I felt I deserved it. It was after my host mom came back to collect the empty dishes from me when I asked if I was being lazy. Yes. “Yes you are” she replied before I could finish asking her. Well at least we both know what I am.

OK. So maybe I'm being lazy in learning Spanish. I figure I've got to learn something through osmosis right? I actually think my Spanish has gotten worse since I've been here, but that might be because there is more to not understand. But how can one study when there are so many distractions. I'm back in the hammock, of course, and trying to study but the absurdly loud reggeaton coming from the house 100 feet away is starting to make my ears bleed. I can't imagine actually being in the house while the music is on. I have visions of a def guy sleeping and his dog accidentally setting the stereo to “Ear Bleed” or “ Soul Crushing Extreme Loudness from Hell” and he is sleeping like a baby though it.

And there is the TV which I can see through the window from my hammock. That's right. I don't even have to move to watch the TV. Pirates of the Caribbean is on in Spanish and I'm pretty sure they use the same voice for Johnny Depp as they do for Homer in Los Simpons. I've also considered the fact that there happens to be hole in the hammock that is very close to being the right size and placement for a makeshift toilet. All I need is a bucket and I'm too lazy to get that right now.

And then there is fact that I have a phone to call people which I just did, a guitar to play which my fam loves, and my computer to write a journal in. I should really get off this thing and start studying Spanish....     

Chocolate, Sickness and Spanish

I've come to the conclusion that I'm not a healthy person. Well, I might try to eat well. Except for the occasional hamburger or fried piece of chicken, but I try. What I mean is the fact that I get sick everywhere I go. I'm not sure why. I eat the same things, do the same things, and follow the same guidelines as everyone else and yet I find a way to get sick. Case and point last weekend. Too much has happened since my last blog post and I've explained the story too many times so I'm going to give you the quick run down of how things happened.

I got on the bus with the rest of the Peace Corps trainees that were going West for their site visits and was glad us selected few got to leave a day early and get a hot shower in a hotel. The bus ride was long cramped and cold. They love to crank the AC as much as possible in the country and we were warned to bring a jacket. I did. I was also the only one out of about 17 of us to bring a bag small enough to fit under a seat keeping all my belongings at my disposal. This comforted me. I had no idea what to expect at the site other than it was some type of chocolate factory and that it was in a place called Bocas Del Toro which I remembered from about 5 years ago as being a tourist trap.

We arrived in David at about 2am and the first real Peace Corps test ensued. Not only was the map that they gave us complete bullshit, but we were all tired as hell. Having 5 different people ask directions and getting 5 different answers is not optimal when nerves are running on overload. Suffering from “group think” we finally made our way to the hotel with only a few outbursts from our EH counterparts whom didn't seem to be adjusting to Panamanian lifestyle as well as expected. One EH'r “Environmental Health” not only decided to walk in the middle of the street, but then offer a rather loud “fuck you” to a taxi trying to get by. He also commented on the size of the beds that we had not seen yet. I think it was along the lines of “they are probably Panamanian size beds and they are short”. And these guys were supposed to be the rugged trainees? It bugged me that someone was already thinking this way and I hoped no one would follow his lead.

The bed was nice and the hot shower was maybe the most amazing thing I had felt in weeks. I can't even explain how much I love taking hot hot showers. David. The guy I was splitting the bed with to save 12 bucks failed to realize that both knobs read “hot” on them and therefore took an ice cold shower. I laughed.

Everyone else left early in the morning. Making sure to catch buses to their assigned sites where they would spend 3 days seeing how another Peace Corps volunteer lived and worked. David and I were going to the same site and we both decided that waking up early was not in our best interest. We had both been to Panama before and knew that getting a bus through the mountain would not be a problem.

The drive through the mountains is nice and the road is new. The bridges are brand new even though work was still being done to them. This is where the canal money was going. We saw more of the canal money being spent on the road to the “indigenous” site which we took a taxi to after meeting Brian and buying items for dinner. Brian explained to us that just months before the road had been dirt and for good reason. No one in the community owned a car. Only the taxi came about once a day along with the occasional visitor. The village stood at the dead end of the road and split the community in half with the river raging besides both. A river that had recently raged over its banks flooding the entire area making exit impossible.

We arrived at the site and expectations were met. Wooden stilted houses sat in rows among native trees, scattered trash, and wondering kids. The terrain was rugged. Rain constantly battered the ground making a type of mud I can only explain as “slip” for anyone that has ever worked with pottery. Any hard mud available was sure to covered in slippery wet mud on top making for a dangerous journey in any direction. I loved it. And so did the local Nobe Indians to which this terrain has been their home for thousands of years. My sandals quickly gave way on any steep hill and I found myself flat on my ass more than once. David had a couple spills too, but we both agreed that my no handed, straight as a bored, back flop into the side of a mountain took top prize. I was winner of back full of mud and plenty of laughs.

Brian's hut was new. The natives built it for him 6 months into his service and it looked sturdy. We were told that it took 4 trees and 3 months to build. It was a simple one room hut on stilts with only single boards between the outside world and the inside. It was simple. No running water or lights and full of bugs and geckos, but it was nice. Primitive, but sufficient and capable. I liked it. It needed a slight remodel that included a solar shower, and place to keep my horse that I'm sure to have, but I liked it.

About the trash. Her is my theory. For thousands of years these people have lived in a society that all food was organic and gladly accepted by the animals and dirt. Only in the last 30 years has the introduction of things with plastic rappers and bags made it complicated. If these things weren't scattered everywhere, which they were, then they were piled up and burned. The daily smell of burning plastic is something that I will never get accustomed to. I would work on changing this behavior in the community but who am I to say that they are dirty people. They have lived just fine without our help. At least Brian didn't care. Or at least not after living there for so long. It seemed to bad to me that such a beautiful place be trashed literally, but I'm a gringo. What do I know. Maybe they like the way it looks. Maybe Sprite bottles and ketchup containers are more appealing to the eyes after staring at the same damn plants for all their life. I don't know. I do know that I won't be able to tolerate that or the beating of animals in my site and I'm trying to think of ways I can educate the people on these things.

Chocolate

Chocolate isn't what you think it is. Or maybe it is and its me that didn't know. I found out that pure chocolate is literately ground up seeds that have been dried and roasted from a cacao fruit. So we made chocolate. The Nobe people live as simple as could be and so goes their chocolate production. Chocolate trees strategically planted deep into the forest make scaling the mountain to get to them a challenge. Finding poison dart frogs, tucans, and tarantulas along the way is not a hard task as we found. The chocolate fruit is sweet and cutting the center of one and pulling it apart will reveal a membrane similar to string of pumpkin seeds but more uniform, larger, and sweeter. They taste like grapes.

Solomon, our tour guide and local Nobe leader had already dried and roasted some seeds for us. All we needed to do was grind them. Not as easy as it sounds. The damn grinder was archaic and hard as hell to turn. David and I took turns crushing the fairly large burnt-like seeds into a dark rich chocolate paste. The smell of what we know as chocolate filled the air of the hut. Solomon's wife then took the paste added boiling water and sugar and we had the freshest hot chocolate one could have. Heaven. Reaching the bottom of the cup resulted in a rich mud chocolately goodness. I can't imagine if someone were to add this to the fresh coffee. The world might end. I bought a pound of pure ground chocolate which hardened, and I plan to put it in everything.

The River

The river was amazing. Well it was cool that there was a place to swim near his hut because he had no running water and it was where people took baths and washed clothes. Brain, the volunteer we were visiting, made it a daily routine to walk up to the waterfall which the locals didn't go to due to a ghost superstition. On the way, cut vines made for great rope swings, and Jesus lizards ran from out rocks and across the water. If it started raining the river quickly swelled and we saw it happen. At one point while we were out of the river it started raining hard and the river quickly went up by 2 or 3 feet. Enough to sweep anyone away to a point where you would never see them again.

Getting Sick in a Foreign Country Where you don't Know the Language Sucks

I could write a book about getting sick in different countries and I could write about 3 pages about my visit to the hospital here but I'm going to just some observations instead. Here they are:

I got sick somewhere in Bocas during my visit.

Started feeling sick in David after eating some chicken.

Had violent attacks of puking and diarrhea for 12 hours straight threw the night.

Brain drug me the hospital where I puked so loud the whole place felt sorry for me.

For some damn reason they decided to give me x rays on an old rusty machine instead of immediately giving me fluids and anti-nausea.

After trying to explain that I was going to puke on the all equipment if they didn't do something the 3rd attempt to get an IV in me worked on the top of my hand.

They pumped more Antibiotics in me than I've ever seen and told me to poop in a cup.

After pleading for them to let me leave that night they refused and I watched Lord of the Rings in Spanish.

They wouldn't let me go in the morning so I walked to the front counter with my IV still attached and told them to take it the hell out cause I was leaving.

They took it out and gave me a bag full of meds I haven't even looked at.

Still don't know what the hell I had but my stomach is still a little off and I'm feeling more dizzy than usual lately.

I lost about 3 pounds that will be hard to put back on.

Ate one cracker, got on a bus with Brian that was supposed to be 5 hours, the AC on the bus broke, it started raining so no windows were open, it was hot as hell.

The bus then blew a tire going 70.

I got off the bus laughing and we made it 6 hours later.

I ate two hamburgers from Mcdonalds and which I would never never do in the states and I'm pretty sure that the hormones and antibiotics in the burgers made me feel better. Plus it somehow tasted like home. A home that was so far away. I'm finding its the little things here that make me happen. So far they are music and small shitty hamburgers.

Go figure......

Lightening

Its 9:30 and the thunder is so loud that it is shaking the aluminum roof to deafening levels. Between the lightening and thunder, the weird 1980's Spanish cartoons on the old small television, and the dogs scratching to get in the house and out of the storm, I would say its a strange scene. Abel has continued his domination of anything with sugar. We have to go to the store to get plantains? Candy. I get a birthday cake? He gets some. He doesn't want dinner? Cake instead is apparently alright. They wonder why he is bouncing off the walls and won't sit still to do his homework. He also probably about 20 lbs over weight but really don't think they care about that. There are some healthy looking people here and makes me think that they have a special gene that automaticly turns sugar and white bread into protein and whole grains.

About the lightening. I have my headlamp in my pocket for light and my sandals so I'm not touching the bare concrete floor when it hits the house. I guess you can say I'm paranoid. They just ignore it and casually bring the bird cages in from outside. The sound of the dogs desperately trying to gain access to the inside of the house doesn't help. Dogs are of a different use down here. Not really for companionship at all. Apparently in the jungle they use them for hunting so they don't feed them much and aren't really all that touchy feely with them either. I can understand that. People do that in the states. What I don't understand are the dogs that are left on 3 ft chains all day and are fed the days scraps. None of which are neutered or really cared for. It is easier to just let them be. I've seen some pretty bad wounds on some of the other dogs wondering around and many hobbling around. It's just different down here. We are allowed to have dogs in the Peace Corps, but I'm not sure I want one of these. I guess it would be nice to rescue one but I don't think it would ever be what you call a lap dog.

Its now 10:00 and raining so hard that I can't think. I'm pretty sure the power is going to go out soon and I'm hoping that the geckos have already eaten because pretty soon those bugs are not going to have any light to be drawn to.

I didn't get the Allegra D I was supposed to today but I have been reassured that it will come tomorrow. I hope so. I leave with one other person for Bocas tomorrow where we will be visiting another volunteer that is working in a chocolate co-op. Baddass. Dreams of me waking up in the morning, making breakfast from fresh eggs, riding my trustee steed to the chocolate co-op, and spending my days deciding upon the best label for the newest batch of chocolate bars are filling my head. I could only be so lucky. I could be sent to a city with absolutely nothing and told to get to work. I'm down for the challenge. The next 8 weeks will be hard though. I have a really really hard time paying attention in class and I think that my ADD has actually gotten worse as I get older. I find myself day dreaming about the craziest things all while staring at the lecturers. Pretty much grand delusions of me conquering some impossible task. Not going to happen if I don't pass the tests in the next 8 weeks. Hopefully the Allegra D will work.

I might have said this before, but I'm glad I have the internet. At home if I wasn't on the internet, I was drinking. And I think I was on the internet about half of the time I was in Chico. I can't either here. I had one beer in a shady bar with hookers and passed out patrons in the middle of the day and I almost passed out. I think it was the humidity combined with me drinking the beer so fast as to not be accosted by the hookers or drunk locals. I'm still glad that I can detox from these things for at least the next couple months. I should have better access to internet and beer after training but they are not necessary things at this point in my life. Being on the internet kinda defeats the purpose of being here. Also, I don't really want to see the news or have to worry about what everyone else in world is doing. Not only does it make me home-sick, but I have so much shit to worry about right now, I know that one shitty e-mail could just screw up my day really bad. I don't want to be sitting in class all day thinking about a shitty e-mail I got from some ex girlfriend or something or that my favorite team just got some amazing player and is going to be awesome this year without my support. (All hypothetical of course). I do miss a lot of people and want to here from them though. As long as they are good things that don't make me miss home. So that means they must come visit me next year when I have my own place. I sometimes think about special skills some of the people I know posses so I can have them come visit and put on a mini-clinic for the community I will be in. Could my dad talk about emergency animal evacuation for my community? Probably not. I think they would save their TV sets before their pets. Could my friend Elsye come down and teach about what really makes a good cup of coffee? I think they would kick me out of the community for good. They are really particular about their coffee. My mom could come and show techniques for sowing. That would work. My brother could come down and work the fields with me. Ari could come and put on a futbol clinic. Spencer could..... well I would say that Spencer could show them how to party but many communities have problems with drinking so maybe that is not such a good idea. Spencer could just hang out and detox on my hammock and maybe teach a cooking class.

I know that there are skills that everyone of you can offer so think about it and get your ass down here next year. That is if I don't get hit by lightening, kicked out of training, my foot heals, and I don't come down with something bad. So, better hurry.

Birthdays

I never really celebrated my birthday much. I mean I guess I did as a kid but I can't really remember one that sticks out. We moved around so much that I never really had enough friends to throw a party and it always fell at the beginning of school. So it was pretty much just me and Matt staring at each other and if I was lucky enough to have my birthday at my mom and stepfathers house I probably got a gag gift anyways. It wasn't much to look forward to. I guess that's why I never really expected much when it was that time of year.

That said, this was a pretty good birthday and I even have cake coming. I've been told that a friend is buying one in the city and bringing it here. This is no small feat. Not only does a cake cost more than food for a week for these people, but it has to be brought by bus which I can tell you is not fun. Smashed, sardines, hot, annoying, and cramped are all words I would use to describe them. They actually do have some charm though being old American School buses with all kinds of crazy paintings and streamers all over them. Kinda like a shitty strip joint on wheels.

Back to my birthday. I didn't really expect much. I actually bought myself a guitar yesterday and thought that would do. I was just hoping to get a semi nice meal today to celebrate. Alec, who I've been hanging out with a lot came over after class today and was like “hey there is something going on at the Community Center”. Sounded good to me so I quickly and we headed down. Taking the 10 min walk down the street I was smiling the whole time. I knew what was up. As soon as we got down to the community center I could see the group of people standing in a circle. They had bought a banner saying happy 1rst birthday complete with party favors and hats. Everything was bought the day before when we went to the city and even the cupcake and candles took some thought to get ready. It was pretty cool. I know we all feel a little disconnected and taking comfort in the little things in each other is definitely helping.

My family had something else in mind for my birthday. I finally got the cake I was promised after the special birthday dinner of a type of Panamanian piea was served. The cake was amazing and was served with jello and ice cream. Complete with feliz cumpleanos Adam written on the cake, there was nothing more to be desired. They love to eat their ice cream with jello here and have it at least once a night. I guess they use it as a filler. I've been making fun of Alec for having such shitty meals and this was a great chance to rub it in. He pretty much gets fed white bread and corn flakes every day and by the looks of his house I think they are on the verge of complete poverty. All amenities are outside pretty much and there are 4 people staying in a 3 room (total) house. We only have 7 more weeks left in these houses so its alright to make fun of him I think.

I've been finding out something troubling about the dropout rate among Peace Corps Volunteers. A lot drop out. From what I've seen its like 25% or something close to that. I didn't think that it was so common but I guess some people just can't handle it. It is also pretty common for people to complete a year of service and take half of the completion money. I have to say that I have been a little homesick lately and I think most of it is because of the language barrier and the fact that my allergies are so bad that I can't see or think in the morning and I just want to sleep all the time. I've also had a couple of really graphic dreams about certain people due to the malaria pills and it definitely doesn't help. We have only been in the Peace Corps for 2 weeks now but it seems like forever. It seems like we have at least been here for months.

Notes:
Most of the guys I've talked to agree that they are not interested in the girls in our group. I'm sure that will change as time goes on though and I'm not really sure what the other guys think. Its pretty funny to talk about down here given everyone’s situation. I'm pretty sure most of the guys are hoping that someone from back home will come “visit” them in January when we are allowed to have people come. I like watching the drama unfold from a distance. Better than the t.v. Here that's for sure.

My health sucks. Foot still hurts and I'm going to have to use it a lot this week when we visit the site. My allergies are out of control. My whole head is swelling up and I can't stay awake. Hopefully getting medicine for that tomorrow. I'm hoping those two things will be taken care of by this week so I can concentrate more. I really need to work on my Spanish as we are going to start having our technical courses only in Spanish. Its harder than I remember though and I'm usually mentally retarded during the day due to my allergies.

I get excited when I think that I could be sent to an area that I can work on sustainable eco tourism with the government. I really hope I get an assignment like that.

Should be an interesting week. A lot of traveling. Viva Bocas Del Toro....