Give Me Money

It is a normal thing for a Peace Corps Volunteer to be asked for money during their service. I don't think that I have talked to one volunteer that has not had that experience. We are mostly white and white people are associated with having money. I've had it happen many times and every time I have said no. A big reason for that is that if you give just a little than you will most likely be called upon to give more. Another reason is that giving out money can be tricky business. It can wreck relationships between you and community members and it can put you in awkward situations. Plus, we don't have that much money to just be giving out. I, myself, have to use my own money every month just to survive in this country just because I end up having to travel a lot for the artisan group. Probably the biggest reason I do not like giving money out is because I know for sure that every person in this community has a farm and in that farm are countless things to eat. And if there are not things to eat out of your farm then that was your own damn fault for not making sure that things you can eat were not growing in it.

That is why when the little girl that lives a couple houses down from me asked for two dollars and fifty cents I said no. I had just visited her house as I have for past couple days mostly for the reason that her mom is insanely pregnant and when the doctors came by they had told her that the baby was in an awkward position. For those of you read the other posts on my blog dealing with babies in my community you will know why I'm concerned. As a Peace Corps volunteer and especially as a Community Economic Development volunteer our job really has nothing to do with healthcare. I know that there are some Peace Corps posts that deal with that but Panama is definitely not one of them. This country has an incredible amount of income coming in and it has the best hospitals in Latin America (Thats why I got placed here), its just that none of that ever sees the poor people here. For this lady to get a sonogram it would cost her $20 at the least. She makes zero dollars. So back to the girl asking for money. I said no. Then I got to thinking. This is the woman's 10^th kid and all of the kids in her family have to take care of the younger one all the way from 20 years old down to the 1 year old. Her husband abandoned her in a drunken rage one night and went to live with another lady in a different community. He hasn't been back in 4 months. It took three guys to pull him out of the house because he was yelling and threatening her. I starting thinking that I knew that she has a farm because I have talked to her about it. In fact she has a big farm. And I knew that she had kids old enough to work in the farm. I decided I was OK with my decision and kept on reading my book. That was until I realized that I was reading without really reading. I was just thinking about her laying down there on her porch on her side unable to move from the weight of the baby and the insane heat of the day.

I needed a second opinion so I went over to my other neighbors house and asked there. I found out that the older kids were at school and that the oldest had a foot problem and could not make it to the farm. Shit, was the first word that came to mind. I instantly felt bad. I headed back into my place grabbed exactly the two dollars and fifty cents she had sent her five year old to ask me for and headed over to her house. Upon arriving at her house I noticed the girl that had been sent to ask me for the money below the house with a machete trying to dig roots out of where the sink water drains out into. I instantly felt worse. She wasn't trying to extort me just because I had been visiting her. The family of mostly small children was actually hungry and were about to have the five year old girl dig for roots in the dirty water of their kitchen disposal. I told her to come back in and I went up the stairs where I found Gloria laying on her side on the porch, her extremely pregnant belling protruding out like a beached whale. As I handed over the money something still pulled on me telling me that I was being a sucker and that they had plenty of food inside. You would think that everything up until this point would have told me otherwise. So I gave my speech about how I can not usually do this and that she should plant more stuff in her farm and that her older kids need to find a way to get money. I felt proud about my speech and thought to myself that I was only trying to help. That was until she told me that the older kid had just got back from the farm and that all the food they had growing was too small to harvest right now but that the same older kid was going to market with the cacao tomorrow and she could pay me back. I felt like an idiot and to make it worse the following happened: She then asked the five year old, that was now trying to handle the three year old and the one year old, if the banana truck which comes by once a day had left already. Of course it had as I had spent all this time giving speeches and figuring out if I should give her a measly two dollars and fifty cents. I felt failure crawl through my blood as I explained that maybe someone else in town had something she could buy eat knowing that that would be hard right now. She thanked me for being kind as I left just to drive the dagger between my heart and the rest of my body to make sure that the separation was complete.

Other stuff:

My toe seems to be healing I guess. It doesn't hurt at all but there is this crazy hole where the nail used to be. I'm pretty sure that the nail is just going to grow right back into there.

I'm hoping to buy soccer cleats this weekend to play on our team here.

I've been scrambling a little bit trying to figure out how the hell to get a cacao grinder here. It has been over a year now since we started looking for a grinder to buy when I get back from vacation I will have four months to get it here and working.

I'm going back home for almost three weeks. Going to see friends and family. Can't wait. I will be bringing back 62 lbs of computers back with me because I can get two free ones for my community if I do so for a local non profit.

I've been hard to work on a marketing and sales workshop for the artisan group. They will need it with the increase in capacity that the grinder will provide.

It has been hot as hell and after carrying bags of sand on my back with the artisan group all day yesterday my legs finally broke out with heat rash. It's the real first heat rash I've had this year and I'm hoping that I can control it with keeping it cool and wet. Last year was absolutely miserable when I had it. It usually goes away with a couple nights in an air conditioned hotel which I will have soon so I'm not worried too much about that

My English/Tourism student is doing well and is to the point where he can have small conversations. I'm really surprised at his advancement and determination. He told me the speech that he tells the tourist which includes things like “Adam Armstrong taught me English so I can be a tour guide and I appreciate it because I do not have enough money to go to school to learn English”. Teaching every day is not too bad even though it can be trying sometimes after a long hot day. I'm secretly trying to get him a computer too as I think he is one of the kids with the most potential here.  

Bocas Baseball and Toe Damage

Lets see, where do I start? I know. The bad news first. So my negligibility came to bite me in the ass again and this time in the form of a hangnail. I was convinced that the damn thing was just a phase that would pass like the crazy amount of gringos that come here to think they are going to “live” the dream. I find that they just need to live the reality. Anywho, I waited and waited and my big toe got more and more gross. Red. Infected. Smelt like a sewage treatment plant that had broken down years ago but still had raw sewage being pumped into it. You get the point. If only I had gone to the doctor at the first sign of discomfort I would not have had to rely on the archaic methods I did which trying to cut the side of the toenail off lengthwise and then ripping the nail out that had at this point hooked its way into what felt like the center of my toe. My god that was a terrible idea.

Note to everyone, don't put off to tomorrow what you can do today and if you think things will just go away on their own like I like to do then you you are either going to end up with two distinct things and nothing else. One is a bloody big toe that the doctor has just ripped a jagged piece of nail out of along with cutting out and yanking half of what is left of your toe. The other is most likely going to be a really shitty term paper that was thrown together while trying to nurse a hangover with caffeine and hot pockets. I've done both. It was lucky for me that I've always had a knack for writing and could churn out a respectable paper no matter what. It was not lucky for me that I had tried to give myself surgery without anesthesia. And it was downright stupid to wait for months while my demonic toenail sent from the underbelly of hell itself dug its way towards the middle of my toe while slicing its way through any and everything it could therefore turning my toe into a red infected chunk of dead meat hanging out next to my other toes.

Ok. Enough of that. Lets talk about happy things. It rained today thank god. My water tank was pretty much down to its last drop and that was going to mean going to the river to bath with an open sore. Also, I heard that humans need to drink water to survive so I will be trying that out now that I have plenty.

Directly after my excruciatingly painful impromptu surgery by one of Changuinola's finest doctors that made me wait until he could position the antenna on the tv just right before he could cut into my hemorrhaging toe, I went to the Bocas Baseball game. Now this might catch you by surprise and if it has I'm very sorry and please give me a chance to explain. This was not just any ol baseball game, this was game three of the World Series of Baseball (of just Panama) and Bocas was up two games to none. Tickets were hard to come by but I had my connections and had my ticket in hand as the good ol doctor Whack a Mole was hacking away at my foot digits. So I hobbled out of the Clinica San Jose and onto the dirt road where I soon chased a taxi as fast as a turtle chases....well...anything, and I was off. I met my friends in front of the stadium and after the horse tranquilizers that they gave me for the pain kicked in I felt perfectly sane and comfortable sitting on a plastic beer box with a view of almost nothing that was so far away from any player that I couldn't make out any of the numbers on their backs for 7 hours. We won which was the important thing and I didn't get my toe stomped into oblivion every time we scored and the people behind, in front, to the sides, and somehow underneath me, went into convulsive fits while hurling copious amounts alcohol into the air. I'm not kidding about this. Like I ever kid anyways. Apparently someone scoring at a baseball game here is a perfectly good reason to swing your drink around in the sky until there is none left in said container.

I actually enjoyed it and I think I would have even without the Dr. Mole tranquilizers. Having attended many baseball games in the states I can attest that they are boring. And by boring I mostly mean that its not that rowdy. Now, I've never been to a final game of anything until now so I don't know if baseball finals are different in the states but here its just turned up to 11 no doubt. You've got half the people paying to get in standing in every crevice of the ballpark, the constant and I mean constant pounding away by the band who is seated in the stands, two dollar bags of fried chicken with banana chips, hand horns, car horns, bus horns, and whistles constantly going off, and people screaming at the refs. Its good entertainment and worth my five bucks any day...