“Like all great travelers, I have seen more than I remember, and remember more than I have seen.” – Benjamin Disraeli

After almost seven years of Spanish classes, I have learned one very important lesson: YOU have to be the one to make it fun.  If I hadn’t figured this out pretty quickly, I think I would have dropped out before I had to learn the dreadful subjunctive tense (which doesn’t really exist in English…making it all the more weird and complicated sometimes).  So throughout the many made-up dialogues, practice sentences, and long essays required from various courses, I learned that there’s nothing more fun than adding in a little surprise humor for your compañeros or unexpecting teacher.  Which brings me to tonight: another regular, ol’ boring night stuck in Spanish class.  Our profesora was teaching us how to write a memorandum using the proper technique and proceeded to explain that we would each be writing one to read out loud within the class period.  My mind started buzzing right away for creative topics, and I finally decided on taunting my fellow Panamanians a little…(as written and translated by yours truly)

*Note – for all of you non-soccer fans (myself included), there’s another game between Panama and the USA tomorrow…and to give you an idea of how important it is to people here, a boy in my class told me he skipped the geology test I had yesterday to have a beer and watch Panama defeat El Salvador.

“Date: June 21, 2011

To: The faculty and students of USMA

Subject: Free day tomorrow

The president of USMA wishes to communicate to the students of USMA that tomorrow, the 22 of June, there will be no night classes due to the fact that La Villa will be celebrating the victory of the United States over Panama.

Every United States citizen that lives here will receive a golden crown, and it is expected that all Panamanians will celebrate them eagerly until the early hours of the morning.”

The teacher laughed out loud when she proofread it for me (brownie point for me), and I got some more laughs and playful boos from the other students.  It made the two and a half hours go by a lot faster tonight.

This past Saturday marked the beginning of one of the biggest celebrations here in La Villa: Corpus Christi.  My experience was a whirlwind of loud drumming music, men dancing in strange devil costumes, fireworks going off starting at two in the morning, and one giant question bubble in my head reading “what the heck is going on???” Thanks to my first round of tests, presentations, and preparing to be a tour guide for mom and Coleen, I had very little time to do my homework on the weeklong celebration.  So take this as an “IOU” note and enjoy the pictures in the meantime. 

All I know is that this thing is called a "Diablo Sucio"...or "Dirty Devil." Good potential Halloween costume.

A few quick anecdotes I want to share:

I like to go to the Mass they offer in the village church during the week in the evening when I can, which is usually said by the more soft-spoken priest of the parish.  Last week when it was my turn to receive Communion, he looked at me and smiling bashfully said: “um, dee Body of Christ?” in English.  It came out as more of a question but I appreciated it all the same. 

Last Thursday while working at the clinic once again, a man who always waves to me on the street when I pass by came in (I think he works there) and gave all of us students and nurses a small piece of candy…or so I thought.  Turns out it was a cough drop which they sell here for 5cents as pieces of candy.

One of my favorite things about Panama is seeing the old men in the streets wearing their traditional Panamanian hats: http://farm5.static.flickr.com/4088/5090595329_9b6f6c4897.jpg.  And trust me, they LOVE their hats.  Rain or shine, they’re wearin’ em’.  All they do is put a plastic trash bag over it when it’s drizzling and they go on about their day.  At first I thought they wore the rims of their hats flipped up just because, but a friend from school later on explained the old tradition to me - if a guy has the front and back end of his hat flipped up it means he has a girlfriend or wife. But if he walks around with only the front up, he’s soltero and looking. Watch out ladies.  Unfortunately the tradition died out over the years, and the men just wear their hats however they please…which I guess is a good thing, otherwise there would be a lot of old, single Panamanian hombres I’d have to be avoiding.

Countdown until mom and Coleen get here: less than 24 hours! Forgive my absence and lack of blogging while I entertain them.  Hopefully I’ll have some good stories from their visit (I warned them that if they’re not nice to me I won’t translate anything…muahahaha). Ciao!

The crowded plaza square watching the diablos sucios dance...which will be even more crowded this week when the celebration is in full swing

“Wandering re-establishes the original harmony which once existed between man and the universe” - Anatole France

Tonight I got in trouble for the first time in my college career for talking during class.  So the girl I was talking to and I spent the rest of the time passing notes back and forth and scribbling short messages about how much we don’t like the class…only to find out after that we have an extra makeup class this Thursday.  I think the word “karma” is the same in English and Spanish.

Today is June 14. Which means that as of today, and probably about this time, I have officially been in Panama for a month. How did that happen?

I think this past week has been my busiest so far, with two full clinical days, an upcoming test on Friday, a paper also due Friday over a movie in Ethics, slight panicking after not being able to understand the movie in the loud classroom, (resolved later with the help of youtube) and meeting more people in the meantime.  After walking to USMA last Wednesday only to find out that class was canceled that night, I spent two hours introducing a few fellow students to the wonders of Google Earth.  They were dumbfounded.  We got kicked out of the school at nine (when it closes) so one of the girls, Aranys, suggested that I go with her and Juan Carlos (he works at USMA but is close in age to us) to get pizza.  They were going to take me to one of the best pizza places in Chitré.  Excited and starving, I eagerly got in the car for the ten minute drive and watched as we pulled up to an exotic, fancy, one of a kind…Domino’s. 

I didn’t have the heart to tell them that Domino’s is (in my mind) far inferior to Pizza Hut back in the States, so I pretended like it was a first real treat for me.  

Saturday I spent the day on a shopping excursion in Chitré.  I’ve been there several times but never in the middle of the city center alone so it was kind of an adventure for me.  I walked into a movie rental store and was approached by one of the workers who asked me if I spoke Spanish.  I launched into my now memorized speech about how I’m from Kansas, am here during my vacation studying, live in La Villa, go to USMA, blah blah blah.  The worker lights up when I mention Kansas and tells me he studied there for a year…which makes him about the fourth or fifth person I’ve met in Panama that somehow has ties to Kansas.  What can I say? I can’t escape home even if I try.

Definitely a lot colder than it looks

I finished the weekend off in the region of El Valle about a two hour drive from La Villa.  I was told by Ana María (my official tour guide as always) that it was a mountainous region and the weather would feel “more like the US!” (aka – cooler) Well, I don’t really consider 80 degrees “cooler” but I’ll take what I can get.  The scenery was incredible and we visited a famous landmark in Panama called La Roca Pintada, which is basically a rock speculated to be over 35,000 years old and painted by ancient Indigenous people over 1,000 years ago.  Our tour guide left us there (and by the way, all of the tour guides were little kids) after we coughed up the dollar for the two minute explanation and we were on our own to finish exploring.  We hiked up a few more rocks (oh yeah, I had originally thought we were headed to the beach that morning so I was wearing flip flops. I don’t recommend it) until we finally reached a waterfall with a small pool underneath.  Ana María’s boyfriend yanked off his jeans revealing swimming trunks underneath and I decided I would be crazy not to get in too, even if the water was freezing (so my dressing for the beach paid off after all).  Just as I waded in to join him, it started to rain making the spot look even more exotic and scaring off the other tourists so it was just us three.  By far my favorite part of the day.

Funny sidenote – I know a lot of Hispanic people are notorious for being short, and while Panamanians aren’t exactly midgets, I have yet to meet a woman taller than me.  The whole time we were climbing up the rocks Ana María and her boyfriend were constantly making comments about how wide my steps were. You would think this would be kind of a self-confidence booster but I feel more like a giant between the two of them. (see below)

I don’t know if I mentioned this before, but I am somehow enrolled in a geology class.  I don’t know how it happened exactly.  My teacher isn’t even Panamanian – she’s from Bulgaria and has as weird of an accent as I do.  Regardless of how I ended up in the class of five, it has come to be one of my favorites.  And, to my surprise, I even learned something useful the other day. (Useful to me as a nursing student anyway. Not hating on any of you rock or earth lovers out there) While listening to a part of the presentation about what to do during an earthquake and giggling at the strangely worded phrases (they kept repeating  the word “aplastado” which translates more or less into “plastered” or “crushed”… “they found a school of Chinese children plastered under their desks,”… “if you decide to hide under the bed during an earthquake you will be plastered too,”…I looked over once at a boy sitting next to me and realized I wasn’t the only one smiling at the nonchalant usage of the word) I learned that contrary to what I’ve always been taught, you should NOT take refuge under a doorway. You should instead find a large object (such as a bed), get on the floor next to it, and assume the fetal position. That way, if the roof collapses or something heavy falls from the ceiling, it will make sort of a triangle with the large object next to you and you will be saved from being aplastado. 

Alright. Bed time.  Countdown until mom and Coleen get here: one week.

A man at a random coconut stand on the side of the road.  For just a few cents, he'll drill a hole into those huge things, give you a straw and let you drink the water inside.

“All travel has its advantages. If the passenger visits better countries, he may learn to improve his own. And if fortune carries him to worse, he may learn to enjoy it.” – Samuel Johnson

On the bus ride to the hospital yesterday morning we almost hit two stray dogs and a chicken.  I guess you could say the landscape here is a little…different.  I decided to run outside for the first time a few days ago and ran past two horses grazing in a field, a bunch of cows standing around chewing grass, a few houses, and a giant bull standing on top of a pile of dirt.  And that was all on one street.

Going back quickly to the clinicals:

I don’t think I’ve written anything about the actual hospital itself, which is actually a lot more modern than I expected it to be…but still nothing compared to some of the technology we have back in the US.  Consisting of three floors, cheesy elevator music that plays in the halls, and some passages that lead outside, Hospital de la Vigila wouldn’t stand a chance against the almighty Barnes Jewish Hospital. (For all of you non-St. Louisans…if that’s even a word…here ya go: http://www.siteman.wustl.edu/uploadedImages/About_Us/Partner_Institutions/Barnes-Jewish-Hospital-aeri.jpg) I can’t believe I spent all last semester complaining about working in SLU Hospital with paper charting (I think it will be the LAST hospital in America to switch to computers) when there is no computer to be found here in literally any hospital.  And some of the basic 10 Commandments of nursing school back at SLU don’t really seem to exist anymore:

1) Thou shalt never recap a dirty needle…seen it done several times here. Eek.

2) Save your back by always raising the bed…although if we had crank beds back in the US for every patient like they have here I might ignore this one too

3) Thou shalt always wear gloves when working with body fluids…self-explanatory.  

4) You must attend some kind of seminar or training that lasts no less than five hours on the importance of patient privacy…not complaining about this one.

Don’t you like how I said “quickly?”

One thing I really like about this little town – anywhere I go to sit for a while there is always someone that comes up to talk to me. Example: today I was back at my favorite refresquería (http://www.spanishdict.com/translate/refresqueria) by school drinking another malteada and doing some homework when a boy in my ethics class sat down at the table and just started talking. Just simple, natural conversation for about an hour. I’m amazed every day at how friendly everyone here is.

But while we were talking, I was watching a woman dressed in what looked like to me very traditional Panamanian clothes walk by with a small boy.  They crossed the street, came up to the patio we were sitting on, and the little boy walked directly over to me smiling and saying “ayuda, por favor.”  (or “help, please”) I was a little confused about what was going on because the woman (who I assumed was his mother) had sat down to watch.  The little boy walked over to the guy I was talking with who then proceeded to pull out a quarter and put it in the small bag the boy was carrying…which is when I started to realize that I was having my first encounter with poverty here in La Villa.  My friend from class later on explained to me that they were indigenous Panamanians (complete with a language even he couldn’t understand) and that this kind of thing happens quite a bit, even though it’s prohibited by law to have a child do the begging.  

Some new Panamanian friends having a "traditional" Panamanian

 lunch

But to lighten the mood a little bit, this past Saturday I traveled with a group of about 15 students to the University’s farm about an hour and a half away from Los Santos.  We spent the day with a bunch of law students from Panama City (who, by the way, immediately greeted and started talking to me in English. I’m so glad I chose to get away from the city for that exact reason).  And you could definitely tell they were law students (no offense dad).  They proved to be extremely talkative and very animated actors as they taught us the techniques of debating (why we went to a farm to learn all of that I have no idea).  Obviously this was all done in Spanish for everyone else there…which means I had to participate in spontaneous discussions/arguments in front of about 30 people (students from other USMA schools in Panama came too) who all spoke perfect Spanish about light, casual topics such as affirming or denying the existence of God.  The whole day was kind of an adrenaline rush. 

Finishing up here with another one of my new favorite Panama sayings:

To say “that’s cool!” or “that looks great!” or “oooh, I really like it!” (basically anything along those lines) you say “Que pretty!!!”…or loosely translated “How pretty!”…but the pretty is pronounced “preeee-teeeee.” Spanglish. It’s everywhere.

Happy 27^th anniversary mom and dad! I hope you don’t spend it missing your favorite child too much. 

Speaking of new friends, this little guy was at our house to greet me a few days ago. Little kids are the cutest when they speak in Spanish.

“When we get out of the glass bottle of our ego and when we escape like the squirrels in the cage of our personality and get into the forest again, we shall shiver with cold and fright. But things will happen to us so that we don’t know ourselves. Cool, unlying life will rush in.” – D. H. Lawrence

Today it rained for almost eight hours straight. 

This whole week actually we’ve practically been living in a monsoon.

The good: it makes the weather much more “fresco” (or “cooler”) as everyone here says.  I’ve been able to leave the house without starting to instantly sweat.  Tuesday in class (after it had been raining the whole day for about six hours) a guy sitting behind me tapped me on the shoulder and asked, “Tienes mucho frío?” or “Are you cold?”  Their mouths dropped open in amazement when I told them I was actually still a little bit warm – I mean come on, it couldn’t have been any colder than 75 degrees.  I looked around the room, and sure enough the rest of the students were all bundled up in sweatshirts and long-sleeved tees like it was the middle of winter.  Look who’s laughing now.

But of course the bad: mosquito bite count is through the roof. I don’t know how they manage to pick the weirdest places to get you.  On the end of my pinky? Really?

Right now I’m sitting in the living room table doing homework (“doing homework” I should clarify) with Césil.  Neither of us is actually talking to the other, but I find it oddly satisfying that the silence in his head is broken by thoughts all in Spanish while mine are purely in English. 

Something else I find slightly humorous: women here like to walk around with curlers in their hair.  It could be the middle of the day and a completely open, public place and they still come with their hair pulled up so tightly in those perfect little circles that it looks like they’ve had a recent face lift.  (Or they could be big curlers too – the other day while at the gym I looked over from my treadmill just in time to see a woman with curlers as big as my fists in her hair pass by. Impressive. Lucky for me the humidity is my nature’s hair curler here.)

Today I had my second day of vaccinating poor little babies in the clinic.  But Monday was the big hospital day.  After a frantic hour of getting on and off two separate buses to the hospital early in the morning, I finally arrived in one piece to el Hospital Vigia.  (And I was already exhausted – navigating Panama’s public transportation is no walk in the park, thank you very much. And you better know where you need to get off because it’s up to you to yell “PARADA!!” (stop) when it comes. Otherwise you’re stuck in an old, smelly, small bus with zero air conditioning and people all around you standing too close for comfort) I met first thing with my new clinical instructor who gave me an extended tour of the hospital.  *Sidenote – did I tell you that all nurses here also have to wear a cofia? Me: http://grupos.emagister.com/alumnos/4/9/5/3/7/foto_4953789b.jpg

I’m working with second year nursing students on a post-surgery floor of sorts.  Unfortunately I don’t think I’ll be doing much since they’re just getting into passing medicine to patients, but that actually suits me just fine.  It was overwhelming enough just getting being in a hospital world completely in Spanish.  So not too much to report just yet but I did notice that men and women are completely separated in different areas on each floor.  Interesting.  And, on our little tour through the ER, I got to see a guy with a small chunk of wood sticking out of his bloody shin.  Wish I could work there instead…

Some of the Panama landscape we passed on the way...definitely surpassed all my expectations

Sunday (backtracking here) was spent at a small laboratory near the beach called Achotines where we (Ana María, Chavalín, Dinah and I) got to tour their facility known for its extensive research in all kinds of sea plants and animals.  They actually partner with a university in Miami to do their research.  I caught the gist of the tuna/algae/rotifer cycle the guide was talking about, but was more happy to stand in some of the coldest air conditioned rooms I’ve been in since first stepping on Panama territory.  I also saw a monkey in the trees surrounding the laboratory.  Can’t say that’s a regular occasion in Kansas. 

Walking back from the bus stop after the day at the beach, I was stopped by three girls and their brother playing in the front yard.  “Excuse me miss, but are you Colombian?” asked one of the girls, referring to me as “usted” or the formal version of “you.”  (For those of you with little Spanish, there are two forms of you and, depending on what country you’re in, usted is used for older people, people you don’t know very well, or persons deserving respect.  In Spain they almost NEVER use it…so for her to be referring to me as “usted” sounded really really really weird to me) I couldn’t help but smiling – my first reaction: “do I look Colombian to you???” But of course I didn’t say that. I explained I was from the US and the girls all looked at each other with wide eyes and half open mouths...making me smile even more.  So, before leaving my new friends, I made a deal with them: I’m going to teach them English and they’re going to help me with my Spanish.  Perfecto.

I think I’m going to end it here seeing as I’ve had to pause every two minutes to scratch a newly appearing mosquito bite.  Happy June to everyone! 

Where's Waldo?

“Your true traveler finds boredom rather agreeable than painful. It is the symbol of his liberty-his excessive freedom. He accepts his boredom, when it comes, not merely philosophically, but almost with pleasure.” – Aldous Huxley

I’m currently sitting outside of an “internet café” of sorts here in the main plaza in La Villa enjoying a malt drink that used to be cold five minutes ago and listening to a couple of kids laughing and throwing a baseball around.  I walked in and this was my conversation with the lady behind the counter:

Her (smiling): "fjkdl;sanfkdls;ajrioeanfkld;sjakfldsja."
Me: "I'm sorry?"
Her: "jfkdl;sankrl;j30qjklsd;afndksl;ajfkdl;sajifd."
Me: "I’m sorry, I didn't understand..."
Her (not smiling anymore): "What do you want?"

That I understood. But the drink was only 50 cents so I’m not too crushed.

Today it’s not the heat that’s killing me because the sun is pretty much completely hidden behind a thick layer of clouds.  We had some kind of torrential downpour last night starting at about 11:45 and lasting for about 20 minutes that was just long enough to make the humidity level today skyrocket.  A few days ago, though, when the hot Panama sun was sparing no one and I had some extra time in the morning before class, I decided that it would be a “smart” idea to do some laundry. It wasn’t.  I can safely say that I will never take washing my clothes for granted again.  For starters, the machine here is unlike any I’ve ever seen before and totally, completely, 100% outside. Just to give you a rough walkthrough:

Step one: plug it in, wash it out with the hose, and drain the water

Step two: load clothes

Step three: fill completely using the hose again

Step four: guess at how much soap to throw in and pretend like you know what you’re doing

Step five: set for 15 minutes…come back. Set for 15 more minutes.

Step six: drain water and refill with hose once more

Step seven: set for 15 minutes to rinse

Step eight: transfer clothes from washer to the small dryer next to it and set for five minutes

Step nine: unload clothes from dryer, hang on the line in the back porch. Contemplate potential embarrassment of hanging underwear up for ten minutes

Step ten: (one day later) take clothes down, fold, and vow to rewear anything and everything as much as possible

Phew. We’re spoiled back in the US of A.

I think I briefly mentioned a few entries ago that I was searching for a hospital that would possibly let me join a group of nursing students for their clinicals…well, I found one.  After speaking with the director of nursing for the National University of Panama and working with USMA to coordinate paperwork, I found out a few days ago that I will officially be joining a group of third year nursing students for clinicals three days a week.  I started yesterday (unfortunately the 7AM start is the same in Panama) at a public health clinic - about a 13 minute walk from my house.  I spent the day with a group of six nursing students (which included the only guy in their program) working in the room labeled “VACUNAS” in big, bold, capital letters.  For those of you that need to dust off the Spanish a little, that translates as “VACCINATIONS.”  I spent five hours helping to give plenty of flu, pneumonia, Hep A, and MMR shots to anyone who walked through the door.  It was a great experience (especially since I haven’t had the opportunity to vaccinate anyone in the States yet) and it was neat to be able to talk to the students and compare nursing programs.  Monday and Tuesday will prove to be the real tests though.  I’ll be at the bus stop at 6AM crossing my fingers that I make all the right stops and end up at the “New Hospital” in Chitré.  I’m not sure what kinds of opportunities await me there, but I’m excited to find out!

The BEST part about joining the clinical groups, though, has definitely got to be the uniform.  Scrubs are not really heard of here (at least that I’ve found anyway) so I had to purchase a completely white blouse and pants (complete with shoulder pads and a waist line above the belly button) and white shoes that are about a size too big for me.  Nursing students also have to take out any double piercings and pull their hair back in a neat, secured bun. How nurses here manage to keep their angelically white uniforms clean and stain-free is beyond me.  And now, for your viewing pleasure:

First day of work as an official Panama nursing student

People here think for some reason think that I have an aversion to eating.  Why? When I serve myself one of the many daily helpings of rice I stop after about two or three scoops.  The norm is apparently about 15 (give or take five extra).  So when I sat down the other day extra hungry and going a little overboard with five whole scoops, the housekeeper (Clímaco...more on him later) looked at me smiling and said, “Well, we thought you didn’t eat!”

Last night I was invited by Vanessa to attend the Hora Santísima (Holy Hour) at the church right here in the Plaza.  I arrived a little early to sit in the back to avoid standing out as the only Americana…which actually didn’t end up mattering at all because all the lights in the colonial style church were soon turned off and only a few candles stood lit around monstrance on the altar.  It was a mixture of reflections and thoughts to meditate on read by the deep, gentle voice of the priest and simple songs played in between.  It was really a beautiful scene to witness and the faith of the Santeños (code for people from Los Santos) was almost tangible.  (Funny sidenote – whenever Vanessa introduces me to people, she always tells them that I go to Mass on Sunday and stresses the fact that I am “very Catholic.” So I’ve decided take a cue from her and start telling people my name is Saint Theresa when I first meet them.  No objections so far.) I’m planning on going back next week for more.

A final note to end on – I’m starting to pick up more of the Panamaisms (yes, I made it up) of Spanish here.  For example: when someone says something and you couldn’t hear or aren’t sure of what’s going on in general, you would say “qué cosa?” or literally, “what thing?” It makes me smile every time.  The little endearing things about Spanish make it so worth learning sometimes.

“All journeys have secret destinations of which the traveler is unaware.” – Martin Buber

I learned a new word this week: lagartija = lizard.

And why that specific word might you ask?  Well, while opening up the curtains to let a little light in my room this past week I saw something dart quickly up toward the ceiling.  Somehow I managed to not scream, yank open my laptop, and google the word “lizard” in Spanish so I could run and tell Jose to “mátala!” (“kill it!”) for me.  Jose was kind of chuckling as he chased it away, asking “te dan miedo??” (aka: “are you really afraid of these little things???”) I wouldn’t exactly call it fear. Maybe just repulsion or disgust.  But I think, given my tolerance for crawly things, I can safely say I’ve been pretty good up to this point.  I’ve learned to keep extra paper next to my bed for emergency kills  just in case something decides to start crawling on the sheets, that the counter will ALWAYS have ants crawling all over it, and the lizards here make a really weird kissing/puckering noise (which means I avoid the area the sound comes from at all costs). Just the other day I poured myself a bowl of Cheerios in the morning and a live bug the size of my pinky fingernail plopped in with the cereal. Qué rico. But none of that means that I still don’t cringe and inwardly give a little shriek in disgust every time I have to deal with the nasty things. 

I have some good news and bad news.

Good news first, shall we?

I can finally understand about 95% of one of my classes! Probably because the room is much quieter and the teacher is actually from Salamanca, Spain.  His accent (for me anyway) is much easier to understand and kind of a breath of fresh air from the staccato Panamanian accent I’m not quite used to yet.  (Then again, I’m also a little biased because I fell in love with the dialect when I was over there sophomore year)  He also seems to be a very genuine, nice person.  He pulled me aside after class and asked me how everything was going so far, blah blah blah.  We ended up talking for 20 extra minutes about Spain, the Panamanian schedule (we both decided they just like to come and go whenever they please…class starting times don’t really mean anything to them), and how he used to be a priest in Spain but decided it wasn’t his calling when he moved to Panamá (where he is now happily married with a few kids).  He’s also very chistoso (“funny” or “joking”) as one girl put it – thanks to my gringoness, he has already become fond of picking on me in class (I have a feeling it will turn out to be my favorite).

It's okay if you're a little jealous

And the bad news of course:

I officially have my first sunburn of the summer. We all knew that it was going to happen eventually (even if the bottle says SPF 483290573920 I still think it’s inevitable).  But I have to say, it was definitely worth the pain.  I spent all day today at la Isla Iguana (“Iguana Island”…and named it for a reason. More crawly things. Great.) with Ana María, her boyfriend, Dinah (the girl from Germany) and another Panamanian friend of Ana María (Lili).  Isla Iguana was an actual island (go figure), meaning we had to take a fishing boat (una lancha as I learned it’s called) to get there.  The water was crystal clear near the coast and the sand pure white…it looked like a Sandals advertisement.  We spent the day eating fruit, climbing rocks, floating in the water, and switching back and forth between English and Spanish (Dinah speaks pretty fluent English and wanted to practice with me.  At times she would switch back to Spanish when she didn’t know how to say something properly in English. Strangely enough I barely noticed the change). Hiking around the island we ran into a Panamanian guide who knew the island like the back of his hand.  He pointed out a large hole in the ground and explained that it was created by a bomb when the gringos used the island to “practicar” during the second World War.  We’re still definitely not winning the “world’s most popular country” contest any time soon. 

And yet even more gross little crawly things on the beach

We rode back on the lancha to the mainland with four barefooted Panamanian fishermen and a few sharks they caught in the water during their successful day at sea…and the whole 20 minutes back I had to listen to Ana María next to me groaning “Ayyyyyy, voy a vomitar” ( = “I’m gonna hurl”). Not exactly what you want to hear from the person sitting next to you in a small boat where the only place she would probably do it was on my bare feet below us.  But thankfully we made it back vomit free.

The inside of the colonial-style church here in La Villa...dog not pictured

At Mass this morning there was a random dog that came and went in the church as it pleased and no one even blinked.  Everything here is pretty much completely open to outside.

I’ve had about five people tell me since I’ve been here that I’m “bien blanquita!” Which is basically an endearing way to say pale.  I’ve also had another five people tell me they are going to dress me in a pollera. If you’ve never seen one before click here: http://www.ivanhoephotographer.com/IvanhoePhotographer.com/Images/Events/PolleraNYC_2006-03.jpg and you can start laughing at the thought.

One week down, 13 more promising ones await! Buenas noches amigos.

“People travel to faraway places to watch, in fascination, the kind of people they ignore at home.” – Dagobert D. Runes

Walking home from my second night of classes about 20 minutes ago I could see or hear every television in literally every home I passed turned on to probably the most important baseball game of the century for Los Santos.  This is the final FINAL game (thank God).  Los Santos is playing another province, Bocas de Toro, for the championship title, and people here could not be more into the competition.  Just now Bocas scored a run to tie the game and a mad fury of screaming and curse words flew at the tv from Jose, Vanessa’s cousin, and David (the other muchacho living with Vanessa).  Not that I don’t appreciate a good rivalry, but if I have to sit and watch another three hour baseball game with an announcer that shrieks “Niñas, niñas! Sabrosas*!!” every time a curvaceous woman shows up on tv (and trust me, the stadium is filled with ‘em) I’m buying a plane ticket back to KC tomorrow.

Two days of classes down…a lot more to go.  And given the way they’ve gone so far, I’m pulling a Vanessa and crossing every part of my body that they get better.  Tuesday I had my Oral Expression/Literary Culture class (aka: español) which doesn’t seem like it will be too difficult, but the problem isn’t necessarily with the work but being able to simply hear the teacher.  USMA’s building here is over 150 years old and the rooms definitely reflect it.  So with the sound of the creaky air conditioner in the back, the echo of the old room, the talking of the other students (who are all freshman too…hah), I was lucky to be able to hear and understand about 20% of what was going on.  Luckily I befriended a friendly colega eager to practice her English and, in exchange, answered my questions about what the teacher was saying.  Psychology, though,…completely different story.  There are only six of us in class (and all girls – Spanish is mostly guys) and the teacher talks very very VERY quietly.  I was brave enough to ask her to speak more loudly once during class…which she did for about two words.  So I spent the entire class straining to catch just one word she was saying and inwardly laughing at myself for the ridiculous faces I was probably making.  And when class was over and after making sure the teacher had already left, I approached one of the girls in the class telling her I had a question: “Of course! Whatever you need.”  “Uh….can you tell me what just happened?”

That’s what I wanted to ask. But I thought it might be a little overwhelming for her.  So I stuck with the simple “Do we have any homework?” question instead and am hoping that next week I’ll be able to actually hear more. 

Since I have practically all day free until my classes start (usually at 5 or 6 in the evening), I’ve been going to the “gym” Vanessa introduced me to on Monday.  Alright. Don’t picture anything similar to an American gym when you hear that word.  It’s basically a fenced in area outside with a metal roof over it, 10ish rundown weight machines, two treadmills, a set of rusty free weights, and five bikes in the back.  For only a $1.50 you gain entrance to this state of the art facility and your own personal trainer, who tells you what to do and how many times to do it.  Even though the equipment isn’t the best, thanks to the trainers and the heat I have never sweated so much in my life and practically limped home today after being forced to do too many squats.  The first time I walked in, the regulars – which consist of about 10 bulky men…sometimes a woman or two – looked absolutely shocked to see a gringa pass through the gate and even more surprised to see just how red I turned while working out.  But Pedro made sure that I was introduced to absolutely everyone in the room, so with the passing of the next few weeks I’ll be a regular too.

The game is getting exciting. In fact, even Hannah just peed all over the floor after Jose finished his jumping and screaming with the latest homerun.  I’m learning how important it is to watch where I step these days…

Today I discovered an English book in what used to be Jose’s desk.  Flipping through the pages I found a few that give a “commonly used” English phrase and an example of its use to the side.  Between the misspelled words, weird phrases, and even weirder sentence examples, it had me laughing for a while. Some of my favorites:

Easy does it – “Easy does it said them.”

Figure on – “I figured on your money.” (I had to read it in Spanish to realize they meant “count on”)

In a body – “The senator arrived in a body.” (???? What??? Maybe I’m not a dedicated enough English speaker but I have never heard this phrase before in my life.)

Jazz up – “The party was jazzed up by Jim.” 

Junky talk – “I had to listen to that junky talk.” (Definitely my favorite)

Wow. All of the above was written last night before absolute chaos set in here in Los Santos.  As soon as the left fielder for the Los Santos team caught the third out on the field sealing the win for them, the whole city erupted in celebration.  Jose and his aunt were jumping up and down screaming and setting off fireworks on the front porch. (Poor Luli was trembling in my lap the whole time.) Vanessa, who up until this point hadn’t been watching the game because it was too close, came running out of her room yelling “VAMOS A LA CARAVANA!!!!” And I had about 30 seconds to grab whatever I thought I might need for the night (I had no idea what a caravana was) and rushed outside with everyone to the car.  Vanessa was going crazy honking the horn nonstop down the street as we headed toward the center of La Villa (where USMA is actually).  THEN I started to understand what exactly it was we were doing.  “Caravana” was a caravan (duh…easy enough) and we joined a huge circle of honking cars with screaming people hanging out all kinds of windows driving in circles celebrating the victory.  It was insane.  After circling the neighborhoods of La Villa, we followed the caravana to Chitré where it continued with the honking madness. At about midnight we made it back to La Villa, pulled over in front of USMA where the caravana was still happening and joined a crowd of people celebrating in the streets.  A small truck with speakers in the back drove up, parked nearby, and started blasting all kinds of reggaeton music from the back.  The cerveza was flowing, people were dancing, and everyone was just full of pure “alegría” (joy) as Jose’s aunt explained it to me.  It was quite the spectacle.  We didn’t get home until about 1:30.  Ay dios míooooooo. I’m going to try to upload a video or two here so you all can experience the chaos too. But for now, I’m doing my best to stay cool here for another 90 degree humid day. Chao!

* Basically: “Women! Women! Delicious!”

Well, I tried for about five hours to load the video and this internet connection just doesn't want to cooperate. I might bring my laptop to school tomorrow and see if I have better luck. Buenas!