Chi Chi, in Polish, means boob

Well, what a life I live right now. I have swore into the Peace Corps, paraded around Panama City drinking like I was in college, spent 3 glorious days vacationing in beach huts on the Pacific Coast with the rowdy and anxious other members of Peace Corps Panama Group #62, and have moved my heart and soul out to the tropical peninsula Valiente to start my two years working with the Ngobe community of Punta Sirain. The amount of thoughts and emotions that have raced through my head in the past two weeks are beyond description and endless in numbers.

As tragic as leaving my new found friends with whom in the past ten weeks have been my family here, it is time mentally to switch gears into the challenges that face me out there on the coast. I’m not sure if you call it culture shock or straight up confusion, but changing from partying with amigos to speaking Spanish and eating bananas alone, with little consciousness of what’s going on around me is no easy task. That said, I pushed forward through my first week and found beauty in every day, as small or as simple as it may be.

I’ll start with my host family. I live with a mom and a dad ages 26 and 35ish and their 5 year old son, Chi Chi (kid in pic above). Now, Chi Chi, being the little rascal that he is, running around the house making a ton of noise, yelling my name, Eddie, all the time, and entertaining himself by bowling across the living room floor with bottle caps, holds the name of what us Polish folk in Connecticut call boobs. I crack up every time his mother yells at him in Ngobe for crying or making a mess out of the place, because she screams “CHI CHI” from a mile away. I’m not sure if that’s actually his name or just nickname that they call little boys his age cause I do believe there are more than one Chi Chis in town. My host mother is pleasant for the most part but definitely is a bit more on the salty side than the other Ngobe women I hang around with. Maybe it’s because all she does is cook and yell at Chi Chi, I’m not sure. Alas, when she seems a bit pissy, which is either due to her rambunctious son or from worrying about how to pay for the next meal, I try to make her laugh by attempting jokes in Spanish (usually just tell her ridiculous stories about myself which I’m not sure if she believes or not), or sing her songs in English. Yes, just about every time I’m hanging out with people in my community the ask me to sing and dance, which I do willingly. Finally! Some people who can appreciate my stellar musical talents! My fav songs to sing them are Wagon Wheel, by Old Crow Medicine Show, anything by the Indigo Girls, the ENTIRE soundtrack to Rent, and of course, The Weight, by the Band (quite possibly the most perfect song in the entire world). After a little of that I mix it up with rapping Beastie Boys and Jay-Z, which blows their mind. These antics, along with games of fast, slam on the table dominos, occupy my nights in Punta Sirain once the sun goes down.

I have made friends with an 18 year old girl in town and her 2 year old son. She’s such a sweetheart and has a curious soul. She asks me questions about my life all the time and about the states, and I can see it in her eyes that she wants a life outside of having kids in town. I told her talking with her reminds me of talking with Ohoh, not cause of the baby thing, but because they’re both 18. Ali, she’s pumped to meet you when you come to visit. The other day I invited her over to my house with her baby boy for some tea. She showed up an hour early to tell me that the water was tranquil today and that she wanted to canoe over to the town across the bay and see her baby’s daddy….aka, her boyfriend. I responded “Girl, go see your man, don’t let my invitation to tea stop you from seeing your BF on this glorious Caribbean day! We’ll have tea another time.” She smiled, winked, and canoed off into the sunshine. This is the start of a beautiful friendship.

As mother dearest back in Boston keeps asking, in our brief yet awesome phone chitchats, I have come up with a list of American and hard to get items I will now request in care packages since I just know you all want to send me some lovin via snail mail….
…just some ideas….
1. Kava Tea (the brand is Yogi Tea and can be found in Health food stores or the health food area super markets). Actually, any yummy tea that is wrapped individually in foil, as open packages will mold in the humidity that is my home.
2. Yummy, well packaged candy.
3. Bright colored sports bras to wear in the ocean….unfortunately my home is not a bikini friendly zone.
4. A new St. Jude pendant from Bachi cause I already lost my charm necklace that I made before I left. Boo.
5. Old Rolling Stones, The New Yorker, Boston Magazine, any old mag for that matter.
6. Old novels, trashy or inspiring, just don’t bother spending money on mailing heavy books, cheapie will do fine.
7. Light sweatpants or Capri sweatpants, mom- just send some that I already own, no need to buy new ones.
8. Old size 6 or 8 pants…..I’m skinny now and nothing fits.
9. Good eye lotion….the sun is strong here and I don’t want wrinkles at age 26 when I’m done with this shindig.
10. Cloves (sisters know what this is).
11. Bath and Body Works Coconut or Nut Body Butter
12. Old Bay
13. Engineering Paper (ask Ohoh to find this in the bookstore at Northeastern, its green and dorky, and I miss it, and I want to design stuff on it, like the addition to my house and an aquaduct)

I have a rainwater catchment system set up next to my house. It collects water that runs off my roof and into the 50 gallon tank that I open for a nice, mildly cold, outdoor shower. The other day I got up into the tank and cleaned the whole thing, bleaching it with some Clorox and making myself a spectacle to those in the community who had no idea why the gringa was perched atop her casita with a scrub brush in hand and head down into the drum. After that I managed to borrow a ladder and retie the pvc pipe into place to get the water flowing more efficiently into my tank. Finally, I convinced my friend Lupita, the woman who runs ones of the stores in town to lend me a shovel, which she was very hesitant to do since it was obvious I intended to work alone without the help of a man to shovel out whatever I was planning on doing. With that shovel, I dug out a trench around the base of my shower and filled with rocks I had hauled up from the beach on several trips. Now when I shower the runoff hits the rocks and seeps into the ground instead of making a giant mud pit 2 feet deep that is sticky and smelly. I’m really proud of my handiwork. Today I bought a hammer and nails for future repairs. We’ll see what the men of my town think of that.

One final note for today, please send me emails of what all of you lovelies are up to. I want to know what’s going on in your world. Also, email, comment on my blog, or facebook message me questions you have that I can answer in my next posting….it’s fun for me to relay the info you crave.

Love to you all, KK