The Comarca

We went to Chorrera again today and it wasn't that bad. I've started to acclimate to the system of learning that we have here in the Peace Corps and Chorrera had been cleaned up of the trash at least by a governmental group. Bright blue bags on the corner of the streets left the evidence I needed to understand why the roads and sidewalks looked cleaner. It also wasn't that hot today and a slight breeze rolled through the streets accompanying the rushing cars as they barreled through town. It was a nice day.

Greg left today or E.T.'d which means Early Termination. To be fair, he was a little older and didn't think he could use his skills in this situation. I understand why he left, I just don't know why he waited so long. He had to have known after the first couple weeks that he wasn't going to be doing any computer programing which apparently was his specialty. He was doing great in Spanish class and often annoyed me due to his rapid comprehension. I seem to be learning Spanish at a slower rate than everyone else. I'm guesstimating that I'm learning approximately 40% slower than everyone else. Most of it is my fault and I need to study more which I'm trying to do and some of it is the structure of the Spanish classes which take place 8 hours a day for one or two days a week. Back to Greg. He was a cool guy and even though he sometimes rubbed me the wrong way (the way a parent does when they are trying to show you how to do something that you should already know kind of way), he was cool and really really smart. The guy was a chemist and wrote firmware for electronics for god's sake.

The Comarca

There are different Comarcas in Panama. A Comarca is just a different word for Indian Reservation, with the only difference being that these are in some of the nicest parts in Panama as apposed to the U.S. Where we pushed our Native Americans into some of the shitiest and inhospitable parts of the country. The government here has even given the people in the 4 different Comarcas almost complete autonomy. They can decide their own leaders and government structure and can even use the resources that the Panamanian government has available which seems to be a lot. All this sounds great but the fact remains that these people remain poor. And when I say poor I mean scraps of metal and plastic bag houses poor. I mean boiled green bananas for breakfast poor. No shower, and maybe a latrine poor. Poor.

So we went. 27 business minded Peace Corps Trainees were sent to the Comarca of the Gnobe Bugle people to live with them for a week, visit another volunteer that was working local groups, learn about real grassroots development, and most of all, test our real desire to do whatever it took to help others in some of the worst conditions. It was a test that some of passed and some of us failed.

Let me give you a little description of where we went. The road to the site is terrible. Mostly washed out mountainside that only a serious 4wheel drive could make. The Chivas or truck-taxis cram as many people as possible into the back of the truck which has a roll cage. The ride is about 1 ½ hours through some bumpy ass terrain and those who didn't take Dramamine wish they had. Our destination in the Comarca, Hato Chami, was once a cloud forest which means that it rains and rains and rains. And its cold. A lot colder than I had ever thought Panama could get. The scenery is beautiful and the views at 3,000 feet into the vast wet green valleys are breathtaking before the clouds have a chance to re-form in the morning. Come mid day, rain. Nothing gets dry. Everything is always wet and this causes problems for keeping clothes dry. Even clothes that I had not taken out of my waterproof bag were wet just from the dampness in the air.

Huts and shanty houses are scattered throughout the now mostly cleared cloud forest and there are kids everywhere. There are pine trees which catches me off guard. At one point and time there was a thought the locals were going to grow pine trees for good wood and sell them. They cleared the cloud forest and planted pine trees. They didn't know at the time of doing this that the pine trees that they planted needed a certain environment to seed and wouldn't reproduce and that the trees would damage the already nutrient lacking soil. So now there are random groves of pine trees and almost no real forest left. I do have to say that this was not their idea and that they have started to realize the importance of keeping the rainforest or cloud forest instead of destroying it for firewood. The Gnobe have all agreed to walk 30 min out of town to get firewood now which is supposed to help. The people I stayed with cut a tree down next to the house.

We were split into different houses and most trainees lived in a single makeshift hut with sometimes 16 people sleeping in one room. The kitchen or as I like to call it, the hut with the smoke billowing out of it, was most times built outside somewhere away from the rest of the hut. This was poverty and life was hard for these people.

I was actually amazed at the smiles and general hospitality I received from my own host family in the Comarca. These were genuinely nice people of the simplest way. Even the kids seemed to wear constant smiles as they wore the same tattered clothes day after day. The English words from the sure to be donated shirts had been faded and soiled to a hardly legible state yet smiles. No clothes? Smiles. And I haven't even talked about Rebecca.

Every family in the Comarca has had at least one child die. I can't imagine if I had lived in this community and that child had been Rebecca. Victor, the other trainee staying with the same host family as I, agreed that this little 3 year old girl could quite possibly be the cutest kid in the world. For that whole week in the Comarca of Hato Chami I slept on a table with no pillow, had diarrhea every day, wore dirty wet clothes, took ice cold bucket baths in a half hut, crapped in a hole, and ate slightly boiled green bananas for breakfast with watered down coffee, but if Rebecca was there she was smiling and if she was smiling the world was a better place. If you told me that the Peace Corps planted this little girl to wake up every morning and give me puppy eyes while she clenched her mothers bright Gnobe dress, I would probably believe you. Her little round face and dark brown eyes hid behind her long straight brown hair. She wore a traditional Gnobe dress that blended in with her mothers and when her name was called. When retreating into the safe crevasses of her mothers dress only Rebecca's tiny head could then be seen until either Victor or I called her name at which time like a turtle retreating into its shell, she retreated in embarrassment.

Rebecca got sick one day and we could hear her coughing in the hut. We were worried and called out for her while her mother Anna served us breakfast. Even in sickness Rebecca peaked out from inside the hut and planted a smile. She was magic and it made the all of the classes about cultural affairs and why were there irrelevant. I knew why we were there. I had now seen it. Rebecca was the reasons name and without the proper education, healthcare, and sustainable development her life could go waste. There are many Rebeccas out there and they are depending on us. Whenever I think about people E.T.ing now I can't help but think that there is one less community with a little boy or girl in it that will now have to wait for the chance to better themselves with the knowledge and skills we posses. 

I hope I make it. I want to help and I know I can. I better study Spanish and hope I don't get sick again or I might not get the chance.             

Oh ya. Just Got my site placement and I´m going to the Chocolate factory in Bocas for my 2 years of service!