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...