17 December 2010

Doli is building a bridge!

Hey family and friends, I have some stories to share but for now Merry Christmas and Happy Holidays to you all!.

Fans of my blog, I urge you to look into my best friend Audrey Blocker's Peace Corps Partnership Project to build a bridge. This structure will connect the two sides of her community that is right now divided by a mangrove swamp. It will also allow access from one side of town to the other, epically for the children who will be using it to walk to school!

Tis the season for giving!


Stay tuned for stories from my last days in Panama.

31 May 2010

busy bee, edi g

Hello friends and family and fans of Confessions, I hope this fine afternoon is treating you well.

It’s been a few weeks now since my adventure up Volcan Baru, and a busy work filled month it’s been.

At the moment my main goal is funding my rainwater project which I’m anxious to get off the ground and running before the close of my service in October. Having said that, can you believe it? The two years in Panama mark will be hit in August this year, and my service is technically closing in October. What a run it’s been.

Throughout the past month in working to fund my RW project, work on my research project, as well as balancing health, friendship, and the burden on managing the unbearably low allowance of $340 a month, I have been reflecting on my Peace Corps service and defining what I need to accomplish before I leave this country.

With a lot of thought in mind and the slowing process of my tasks at hand, I am seriously considering staying in Panama until February 2011. Between now and October I will be able to fund the rainwater project and see through the installation of the tanks. Then with this extra time I would be able to fulfill every field aspect of my research for University of South Florida, coordinate a sexual health workshop for the women of my community and oversee the use and maintenance of the RW tanks including leading a conservation seminar. Time well spent to adhere to the finishing touches of my Peace Corps Panama resume. Even though I am getting anxious to get home, at this point in the game, a few more months to tie up loose ends will be worth the wait.

Now I know the majority of you have been quizzical to my home arrival date and in favor of my company in Boston. I am honestly flattered, and very conscious of the incredibly important people in my life who miss me and want me around. However, if I do not finish these projects and research before October, coming home then would feel unfulfilling to me. It would be tragic to have invested 27 months of my life into my work here to come up short. Therefore, I have been working diligently and thoughtfully to get this project off the ground. You can imagine though how difficult it is to solicit institutions and organizations to donate to a project, when I only have internet twice a month, my main form of communication. But know that Boston is in my heart, and your thoughts are on my mind too.

Now for those of you in the running to get KK home quick, I could use your help. If you know of any type of organization who is interested in potable water development work, PLEASE, help me to get into contact with them. At the moment I prefer to solicit organizations that work with development, water purification, developing world engineering, volunteerism, and the such, rather than asking individuals to donate $20 here or $50 there. If you are so inclined to make a tax deductible donation, the link to my projects website is here:

https://www.peacecorps.gov/index.cfm?shell=resources.donors.contribute.projDetail&projdesc=525-135

However, if you know of such an organization that might be interested please pass along the link as well as sending me (Kaitlin.Green@gmail.com) their contact information so that I can personally invite the organization to consider investing into this project. I’m sure you can understand that larger sums from accredited NGOs promote this type of development work and networking. But I’m not unrealistic, every dollar counts.

Well that’s the update for now. I have more UDel friends visiting in June to experience Peace Corps life, am pluggin away at this funding endeavor, and then coming home in July to be a bridesmaid for Ali Boyles & Justin Martini’s wedding. I cannot wait to get in the states again to celebrate, see friends and family and be in Boston in the summertime.

Cheers to you all, hugs and kisses, abrazos y besos!

19 April 2010

18 hours on Volcan Baru

A group of 15 Peace Crops Panama Volunteers take off to climb Panama’s one and only Volcano, Volcan Baru in Chiriqui, Panama. This is my take on the journey.
The crew and I left David on a school bus to drive an hour north to Boquete, the base of Volcan Baru, at 9pm. We then took a taxi up to the entrance and started hiking at 11pm. The climb is estimated at 6 hours, straight up for 15km…which is about 10 miles. That is, hiking ten miles up a Volcano between the house of 11pm and 5am in the morning, in the dark and in the cold. We’re kind of nuts, but definitely a brave crew.





The trend is to leave at night is so that you can avoid the rain on the trial during the day. Hiking all night puts you at the summit for sunrise where both oceans can be seen. YEAH! We’re totally doing it! Being one of the 3 girls in the group of 18, I made sure I wore my hot pink spandex and other layers including a baby yellow running tank and bright blue microfiber layer, cause everything is more fun in a bright outfit.






The first hour was pretty bad, I thought I was gonna be in bad shape for the whole hike. I was dead last…and huffin and puffin. I was actually really nervous as to how I would perform, as we did no such training and the last time I hiked was on the Franconia Ride with Bryn, July 2008 before Peace Corps. But up I went.


Luckily, in the second and third hour I found my groove. Unable to talk to the guys since I was concentrating on my breathing, I opted for my IPod and soon found myself far ahead of the pact and moving at a brisk pace. Around the half way mark, Green was set for the bronze, following closely behind Jon and Brian, who were leading the way. As we got higher however, I could feel my body slowing and some of the other guys catching up.


Around 3am a group of 5 of us has established ourselves as the lead pact, as this naturally does on long hikes. Brian, Jon, Austin, Dan and I made our way step by step up the Volcano. It also got significantly colder and I had to pull on my black hoodie. This decreased my level of joy since I was no longer clad in a rainbow of Caribbean colored athletic gear, but we were on the side of a volcano, and sacrifices had to be made.


I brought up the rear, but would catch up every half hour or so when we refueled and hydrated. After about an hour with the group though, I started feeling real sick.


Now I must note that before I joined Peace Corps I bought myself a brand spankin new CamelBack, which for those of you who don’t know is a bladder of water designed to put in a backpack with a hose to sip on, so while hiking you don’t have to stop to take out your water bottle, unscrew it, the works. I’ve never used my CamelBack in the 21 months I’ve lived in Latin America. I did however take it off its hook from my house to pack it in my “bag of things to take up Volcan Baru” to find not a few, but a nest of cockroaches living inside the sleeve. I dropped the thing on the floor and watched Nacho chase the lil buggers around my house. Now the cockroaches were in the sleeve, not in the bladder where the water goes, so I presumed things would be fine. I packed away the CamelBack, not washing the never used pouch after one and half years. Gross KK.


Up on the trail I was drinking out of my CamelBack regularly, trying to ignore the musty and gross taste in my mouth that reminded me of the smell of cucarachas. Somehow I think there was debris in the pouch, and this contaminated water, after 3 hours was starting to get to me. Call it the altitude, call it the gross cucaracha water, upon meeting the four guys at our next rest stop I wanders over to the brush, staggering due to nausea and lack of oxygen and threw up like ten times. The boys were horrified, and then laughed. I turned and yelled at them for making fun of me. This violent episode lasted about 5 minutes, and after leaving my mark on the trail I was renewed. Like a burst of energy I emerged from my sick funk and was ready to conquer the volcano. This was a good thing since we were only a little bit past half way, cold from stopping, and desperate to make it to the top before sunrise. “Don’t worry Kaitlin, even though we saw you puke your brains out, we still think you’re sexy,” remarked one of the dudes as we continued the accent.


Onward and upward. The next chapter of the hike was slow moving, and slower the higher we climbed. Half of me was proud of myself for keeping up with the group’s leaders. The other half of me was mad at myself for how much my legs and lungs hurt, a clear sign I need to be working out more often than my twice a week beach jog. My lower back shot with pain from wearing a pack and hunching over while climbing. Somebody needs to strengthen her core muscles!
It got kinda of ridiculous at times. We would start as a group. Jon and Brian would immediately pull ahead followed by Dan and I. Austin was behind but after about 10 minutes of Volcan Stairmaster 2010, I would literally fall to the ground, lay on my back and just breathe deeply in and out for a minute or so, swearing, and twisting my legs to stretch out my back. Austin would pass and I would mutter “keep going! I’m fine I swear! Ahhhh shit!” Then I’d pull myself together, get up and sluggishly scale the trail to meet the boys at the next rest stop. Then the cycle would continue after we departed from getting too cold, a break less usually than five minutes, if you can call that a break at all.


When the top was in sight, it got real steep. My favorite move of this part of the journey was the hands on my knees once every five seconds lunge forward. Lower back breaking off, feet swelling, lungs collapsing, I would climb about 100 ft or so up, and then keel over to rest, and up again, and up again, and up again. Even though we were hiking in a group, we’d spread out so much that it was a very personal, alone experience. I would tear up a little in pain, and then in happiness that I actually could do this, as hard as it was. I would yell obstinacies and grunt loudly for motivation and to voice the pain I was feeling throughout my body. The guys later told me they’d hear weird noises from down the mountain and would stop to curiously look around. it was just me, bitchin. When it got really bad I thought of my sister Maddie and my friend Blair. I was like “Maddie ran the Boston Marathon and Blair hiked the entire Appalachian trial! If they can do THAT, then I can get to the top of this juvenile Volcano!” And up I went.


Finally, cell phone antennas in sight, I emerge at the base of the peak where towers are built. Its pitch black dark out and about 5am. The 4 boys are about 15 minutes ahead of me and I see the trail of their 4 headlamps climbing the rock face to get to the very top. I follow, and looking up at the sky, I cried a little. Down on my left was the city of David, the mountain towns, and the Pacific ocean. Lights illuminated the populated areas. Stars completely filled the cloudless dark sky, and looking straight ahead toward Costa Rica, lighting flashed where the water and land met. To my right I could make out the lights of Bocas town, Changuinola, and Almirante, on my side, the Bocas/Caribbean side of the country. Scary and beautiful! I trekked up the last 200 feet of the climb, meeting the boys at the second to last point on the trail. We followed the rocks up, actually having to rock climb at this point to the platform and highest part of the volcano. At 5:30am April 17th, Jon, Dan and I arrived at the top.


And then it was cold. For 45 minutes we sat at the peak huddling to keep warm under a giant trash bag I had packed in case of rain. The boys, as silly as they are did not bring layers, but luckily I had brought like 3 sets of outerwear which I gladly dispersed. Good thing you brought a woman along guys, as we munched on the banana chips and cookies I also carried to the top.



The morning glow began and we could see down to the tower as the other members of our party arrived at the base. The sun came up over the Caribbean side as the lighting died down at our backs. The sky was insane. We were shivering but as the sun got higher it warmed up immensely. The other group arrived at the top after dawn and slowly but surely all members of our party made it up! I was so proud of everyone. We ran round the peak, took pics, ate snacks, and just talked about the beauty of the area.







How amazing it was to see two oceans from the same vantage point!! I could even see my peninsula, and where my community lies. We could see all of the Bocas islands as well as Costa Rica. Up at the top we were a little over 11,000 feet. When I skydived in Australia it was at 14,000 feet. Now that’s a pretty impressive comparison.

After playing around for a while we finally decided to track down the mountain at 8am. What was supposed to be a four hour journey took 6. We thought it would be a breeze, but the steep incline was hell on our knees. My legs were jello, knees aching, and toes pounding into my sneakers. I lost it a few times. It took every ounce of effort in my body to fight the pain and keep moving, making switch backs down the mountain. The last two hours it started to rain and we had all reached our breaking point. But finally, as all things do, the trial came to the end, and with some phone calls and huddling under the ranger station we go a cab to take us back into town. I had been in the first group to make it to the top and then in the last group to make it down. My mother always told me I did things in extremes.

So to sum up: We were on the Volcano for over 18 hours on our feet with no sleep or real meals, saw the sunrise over the Caribbean at 6am after hiking all night. We ascended 11,400 feet above sea level. 15km up and then down again, which is roughly 20 miles of hiking. We laughed, we cried, we sweat, we shivered, we were hungry, we threw up, we were in pain and experienced runner’s highs. We made it to the top and down again in one piece. We saw two oceans and the width of Panama from the top. Not only was it one of my favorite challenges of Peace Corps; but one of the best experiences of my life.

02 March 2010

A Tale of Two Intruders

My bed is lofted.

I wanted it up high to fulfill my lifelong childhood dreams of being a twin who got the upper bunk. That can’t be helped, but Camp Hayward and my loft in Punta Sirain are slowly healing my aching heart, but letting me sleep up high in a tree fort sort of way. The part of the wall surrounding my bed is lined with a plastic tarp – this is so rain doesn’t get come in between the wall slats and soak me to the bone at night. Genius. I know.

Well, a rat (or mouse or whatever) moved into the space in between the plastic tarp and the wood wall. Fabulous.

We’ll call him Rick. Rick the Rat. Rick makes a horrifying screeching noise at night that makes me feel like I’m witnessing a homicide. I’ve waken up, heart beating, sweating, and out of a dream to this terror of a noise more times than I’d like to remember.

Something must be done….but what?

If I buy rat poison, Nacho (my cat) will eat it and die. If I shove the poison down into the tarp where Rick lives, he dies IN the tarp and stinks up the joint. If I take the tarp down, then Rick might jump out and touch me. No.

So I leave Rick be. Until I come back from Carnival to see that the corner of my bedroom smells like pee…from Rick.

Oh this will not do.

Here is my brilliant idea. Boil water, add bleach, and pour it down the wall in between the plastic and the wood. Not only will it poison and burn Rick, but will disinfect the area and get rid of the smell of mouse pee. Told you it was brilliant.

So up I go into the loft, push the bed aside, cut a hole in the tarp, and down my Clorox-y steamy hot mixture of death goes.

Rick flees- but what flops out onto the floor – a bat! Rick is a bat?!?! No! Rick is the rat is living with a friend- a bat!


Look to the left of the propane tank, there´s the bat! Eeeew he´s so gross!

So I have a rat, and a bat, both living way to close to my sleeping mat, good thing I wear hats, if it wasn’t for my mosquito net at night they might give me a tap, it’s a job for my cat, they’re both total brats.

The bat, we’ll call him Bob. So Bob the bat flops on the floor in his hot chlorinated drunkenness and moves around. I run and scream out of the house. Rick is no wear in sight. Nacho is slowly following Bob – but not attempting to kill him (worthless feline). My neighbors are laughing at me – for the millionth time – can Edi really live in the campo?

Bob half-assly flops himself like a fish out of water around my house for 15 minutes. The kids come over. More Clorox water is thrown. We take pictures. He manages to get on the railing of the porch and flies off into the evening mist. Gone for good, I hope.

But that’s not all.

As I sit on my porch writing this tragic tale to y’all the horrid smell of dying animal passes by. This is not uncommon since I basically live on a farm where dogs, cats, chickens, cows, and ducks run amok. They die sometimes, and it stinks.

So I think it’s the wind. Nope. It’s Nacho, inside, eating Rick the Rat for dinner oh-so-daintily. If you can call blood on the floor and the crunch crunch crunching of rat bones daintily. Nacho looks so polite.



Some final notes…

Prior to all of this 3 American doctors showed up in town, gave out free meds to my people, and I gave them the whole “this is what Peace Corps life is like” sphele. I toured them around the community and they took pictures.

I read 50 pages in The Monsters of Templeton by Lauren Groff.
I perfected the art of pancake making as well as captured my cat back from the disgruntled neighbors who take care of him while I’m away, out of site. They wanted to keep him. No way José. Nacho is mine; he eats rats like Rick for dinner.

This was my Wednesday, February 24, 2010

RIP Rick the Rat & Bob the Bat

And finally, Nacho is earning his keep.

11 February 2010

Lil book club action


So if anyone had any doubt in their mind as to how much estrogen was running through my blood, I’ll quietly remind you by admitting the last 2 books I’ve read are EAT, PRAY, LOVE and a Jodi Picoult; Picture Perfect.

I LOVED THEM BOTH!!! They’re like chick flicks, but in book form.

I’d like to take this time to give a warm round of applause to Jodi. I don’t care how ridiculously girly and sappy her novels are. This being my 2nd, she touched my heart once again. And she’ll touch yours.

So if by any chance Jodi Picoult & Liz Gilbert are reading this obnoxious blog… Liz, get over yourself: ANYONE can go “find them self” on a prepaid vacation and fall in love with a rich chubby over the hill sugar daddy just to write a book. ANYONE.

Jodi- keep on rockin my world. I don’t care how chick flickly, sassy, not meaningful but wildly entertaining your books are, I love you. Keep them coming. You put Anita Shreve to shame.

(hint to those of you who still owe me a care package: Kaitlin loves Jodi Picoult! You have till October)

In my own defense, in the past 18 months here in Panama I’ve also read WATCHMEN, Phillipa Gregory, Paulo Coelho, Hunter S. Thompson, Tom Robbins, Gabriel Garcia Marquez, some sci-fi, and some non-fiction…aka, not all fluff.

I also got a cat. His name is Nacho.

Nacho has been earning his keep. He stays up all night eating cockroaches. The crunching sound of his late night snacks only wake me when he tackles a really big one, like over 2 inches. Then he sneaks under the mosquito net to bed to cuddle. He loves to sit in my lap while I’m reading in my hammock. He has been staying flea-free, AMAZINGLY, but also due to the lice shampoo PC graciously gives us dirty volunteers from the Med department.

The other day he did poop on top of one of my ceiling beams. I could smell it, but not located the said poop for a good 4 hours. Finally, I climbed up to the loft to find the little devil and clean it with Clorox. Nacho was not allowed to sleep inside that night. Bad kitty.

He is the perfect color orange. I tell the women of my village that I named him Nacho because he is the color of cheese.

I have also started a group of Muchachas Guias….or in English “Leading Ladies”…aka…Girl Scouts! Since it’s summer vacation here in Panama and they have nothing to do otherwise but be a nuisance to their parents, so I let them come over every other day at 3pm for 2 hours. We color, we sing, we learn bits’o’English, and we dance. Currently, they are learning “Bad Romance” by Lady Gaga, just like the video. I might need to tone the choreography down a bit since one of the moms stopped letting her daughter come over.

The rest of us think it’s cute.

01 February 2010

things fall into place

It’s pretty amazing how one small move, decision, or plan, can turn into something much greater.

Everything changes; everything has an effect on the next.

For example, at the beach with Audrey, Viviana asks me to visit her house the next day. I go; she’s not there. I go on to Casilda’s, borrow a boat and canoe to Punta Allegre to buy some powdered milk and sugar. I should have been visiting Viv.
A yacht pulled in, asked me if I was Audrey, said “no, I’m Edi, I live over there (pointing across the bay). He says, “Well I brought some veggies to make a salad cause I know it’s hard for you to get fresh vegetables out here, would you like dinner?”

“Does James Brown get down?”

So I was supposed to be hanging out at Viv’s but due to a chain of fortunate events, I ended up drinking beers and eating salad on a yacht with Audrey and the ex-pat.

Example number two: randomly Corialla and Viv came over the other day to hang out at my house. In the 9 months I’ve lived in my house on the other side of town, these women have come over two times, maybe three, maybe.

During this lovely, and random visit, them told me they were going to Bahia Azul (the bigger town next door where our new EH volunteer Luis lives), because they heard some gossip that some gringo doctors were coming with meds. Oh really? Guess I’ll go too and check it out… was planning on doing a whole lot of hammock sitting tomorrow anyways.

So off I went at 7am the next day canoeing an hour down the bay.
Yep there they were, a team on Christian doctors from Colorado were doing some volunteer work by bringing heath care right into the town for a one day clinic. Amongst them was their coordinator, a Dominican man named Juan, who happened to work with aqueduct systems too.

I explained the water situation to him, about my town, and he replies with the Spanish version of “let’s go check it out.”

So into the motor boat we go, blasting over back to my town to see the spring where my town kinda gets there water from. After the site assessment he told me he’d send out a technico to measure how large of a pump we would need to install a solar panel powered pumped aqueduct.
Wow. That was easy.

No promises. And I’m not getting my hopes up. But say it was to happen and we got this thing built, it woulda all been because Viv and Corialla just happened to stop by the afternoon before.

And things begin to fall into place.

18 January 2010

The frustrating task of finding a boat

In attempt to get out of my own head and stay sane in this next year out on the peninsula, I’ve decided I need to cruise around more often when I start feeling like the crazies are getting the best of me.

But what if there’s no boat?

Man up, switch it up, suck it up, go for a run, or just dance.

I asked Dionicio (the aqua president) to sail me over to Audrey’s, no dice.

My usual ride has gone to work in Chiriquí Grande.

Alfredo’s son already took his boat out fishing. When I asked Pedro if he had a motor his wife responded “he does at night”.

Great. I guess I’m swimming to Ensenada.