I was once again on the bus, and having just read a book about American Politics, I was inclined to thinking about my own country. I had just come from immigration (which like taxis, is another blog entry in itself.) so I was not particularly in a good mood, and even more inclined to being very critical about the culture I am starting to call my own.
I was deep in thought about how Panamanians are different from Americans, and though, how I love being here, I cant stand the qwuirks and the tweaks they possess that always make me stand out as the tourist. And since I have been realizing, in a slow and painful way, that my goals of fulling adapting to be a "Panamanian" are just romantic fantasies, these qwuirks were even more poingnant, and not so much that at this particular moment I felt out of place (although walking onto a bus is much like walking down a catwalk), but becuase our differences were very forward in my mind.
I sat on the bus, and when someone (a women, to be exact: women here, going along with their "princess complex", have this tendency of just attacking the aisles of busses head on. They dont politely turn to one side and try to make the best of pushing through a crowd of seven hundred commuters. No, not so much.) pushed by me and hit my head with her purse. Not surprised, I found myself pensive on this push, and even more the lack of an "I'm sorry" or "Excuse me". Sometime, in certain situations, normal rules of courtesy, morals and sometimes existence, just seem to suspend. There are no lines, except for the ever incessant pushing to the counter to get some one to help you. People seem to forget how to count too, since my ticket says number 55 and yours is 93 and you are trying to push in front of me. Then when it is your turn, you actually dont exist if you dont call the worker "mami" or "mi amor" or something equally flattering. I have found playing the "stupid gringo" card is really the only to get ahead, turning into the metaphorically equivalent of a jaw-smacking, gum-chewing, hair-twisiting sorority queen ("Like, um, I dont understand, mi amor. (bubble popping here) Like, um. wh-hhat?") And Panamanians, who are usually very preoccupied about "education" (not education education, becuase there is a serious lack of books here, but here education refers to your "politeness") seem to not care even about this, as elbowing and shoving and name-calling all seem fair play.
So, I wondered, why does this happen? Why does this frustrate me so? Such affronts to personal space and everyone personally, dont seem to bother anyone but me. And when others are affronted, they seem to not be bothered in the way that I am. What is so different about our cultures that these little twirks urk me so? Why cant I just push and shove on a bus, or step on someone's toe and then just continue on with my life? Why do I feel I have to apoligize for every stumble I make, and for every stander-by I nudge into?
I think it is that, here, there is no commitment to the greater good. And when I think about, America may the one places where this might still be true. People look out for each other, maybe not so much in the "neighborhood watch" sort of way anymore, but people stop for you to cross the street. People move out of the way when they are an obstacle between you passing between them, their shopping cart and a display of cereal. People apologize when they bump into you, and they actually try to prevent bumping into others. They dont block intersections with their cars as the light changes, and they see that if someone behind them is in a hurry, they kindly move out of the way. One of my Panamanian friends says that we have that luxary, becuase we, as a country have had to fight wars, we had to know who we were, and we had to pull each other up. We-va had leaders who know how to rally a people divided into one body of supporters. Panama lacks such experience. And another friend whould add that in a country with so much inequality, they only option is to look out for yourself.
That said, I think there is more of a commitment here to those you do know. While Panamanians might not apoligze for bumping into you, or they might not work to make life in this country easier for everyone, they would give their friend the shirt off their back. They talk to their balck sheep brother when he gets released from prison, to their duaghter who got pregenant before she got married. Unfortunately, I think this is being lost. We see children wanting to be more independent and families split beyond the point of recovery. So, here there is a commitment to good. ITs just different from the good that I am used to being committed to. And that makes me wonder which one is better, if in fact superiority can be claimed.
Thursday, October 04, 2007
Wednesday, October 03, 2007
Bus Revelations...Part the First
So, at my new job, there is really no good bus route to deliver me to my building from my humble abode every morning. So while I have been accustoming myself to paying almost triple what I would like to pay for my daily transport in taxis, I have also forgotten what it is like to depend on the bus system. However, I still take the bus and have found that my few times being on the bus in the last weeks have lead to serious thought provoking moments. The first part (thats right, this is a three parter. Contain your excitment.), I would like to share, takes me all the way back to my childhood.
Did you ever read "The mitten" when you were a kid? I for sure did. I remember falling in love with all the great illustrations and thought how it was amazing that the spider, then the possum, then the wolf and then the bear all fit in one little woven hand warmer. I guess I was amazed and awed by the possibility of something so illogical actually happening. I remember thinking, "that could never happen." And while I am sure I lacked the knowledge and vocabulary to describe it at that moment, I always felt that something was wrong, that this couldnt happen, yet my meticulous nature wasnt developed enough to say exactly why it wouldnt happen. I mean in the fantasy world of children, who really tries to explain big mysteries like why a wolf would fit in a mitten but a bear wouldn't.
Well, I was proven that this impossible feat can be done. Panamanians rely, as I do, on public transportation. For most, this means fighting for a taxi (that is a whole other blog entry in itself), or taking the bus. By bus, I dont mean RTD with its plastic seats, and its cleaning service and the token homeless person nestling their brown bag alcohol, but rather I refer to the "diablo rojos" (red devils) as they are called here. Diablo rojos are simply old school buses that have not passed the safety code in the States, where people have a sense of justice, and have the recourses to make sure that they and their children are not dilebrately put in danger. These buses are then sent to all the places where safety standerds dont really exist or are not enforced at least, and these diablo rojos become the metaphorical mitten that the rich kid drops in the forest, not even realizing how valuable it is to those who dont have anything to keep them warm, a small piece of his layers of winter clothing he doesnt even notice is missing when others are lucky to even have a jacket.
And, we all cram in. Standing in the aisle of the refurbished bus, I wondered how many people there actually were on the bus, and how the little "Max. Capacity 67" sign was either not understoof or just flat out ignored (most Panamanians have a basic enough sense of English to figure out what it means). All the cold animals cram themselves into the mitten; here the need to escape the cold is the need to get from point A to point B, and the bus is the mitten that provides that so coveted warmth.
With one small difference. This steel mitten, with its bolts and screws and sparkplugs and axles, doesnt gracefully expand to accomadate all its needy occupants. Therefore, it is the occupants who must accomadate for others as they cram on, doubling over, pressing at least two thirds of your body against the wall, the roof fire exit, or some unsuspecting stander-by. And just when you think the bus is full, people are hanging out both exit doors, ive people are crammed side by side in the two foot passage way between seats where three children are sitting on one woman's lap, and oversized people hang off into the aisle, the driver stops at a bus stop, telling more people that there really is room, leaving all the animals in the mitten too hot becuase there is no air to breath let alone a breeze that refreshs as they try to find a blance between the need to be somewhere, the pain of being forced to be a contortionist, and the desire to not want to hit some old lady on her head with breifcases, shopping bags and textbooks.
I wonder why this happens? Whose fault is it? We can pin the blame on a number of sources. The greedy bus companies and school districts who really dont care or dont know that selling their busses to under developed countries is dangerous, becuase they get some extra profit. The government who makes said purchases and does nothing to inspect or repair failing busses. The drivers who continue to let people board so they can get their extra twenty-five cent bus fare. Or the people who just continue to push and shove, allowing such degradery become a part of their everyday life, whether because they dont know any better, they are lazy or they dont have the resources to make any better proposals.
Like the animals in the mitten, we all just want to be warm. We all have places to go. And the bus is the reality of our situation. And unfortunately, this mitten story doesnt have a happy ending. The kid doesnt come and find his mitten torn to shreds, and is saddened by it. No, when busses burn and people die, there is no action to prevent it from happening again, there is no one to step forward and take the blame, there is no one who seems to care.
Hardly the appropriate children's story.
Did you ever read "The mitten" when you were a kid? I for sure did. I remember falling in love with all the great illustrations and thought how it was amazing that the spider, then the possum, then the wolf and then the bear all fit in one little woven hand warmer. I guess I was amazed and awed by the possibility of something so illogical actually happening. I remember thinking, "that could never happen." And while I am sure I lacked the knowledge and vocabulary to describe it at that moment, I always felt that something was wrong, that this couldnt happen, yet my meticulous nature wasnt developed enough to say exactly why it wouldnt happen. I mean in the fantasy world of children, who really tries to explain big mysteries like why a wolf would fit in a mitten but a bear wouldn't.
Well, I was proven that this impossible feat can be done. Panamanians rely, as I do, on public transportation. For most, this means fighting for a taxi (that is a whole other blog entry in itself), or taking the bus. By bus, I dont mean RTD with its plastic seats, and its cleaning service and the token homeless person nestling their brown bag alcohol, but rather I refer to the "diablo rojos" (red devils) as they are called here. Diablo rojos are simply old school buses that have not passed the safety code in the States, where people have a sense of justice, and have the recourses to make sure that they and their children are not dilebrately put in danger. These buses are then sent to all the places where safety standerds dont really exist or are not enforced at least, and these diablo rojos become the metaphorical mitten that the rich kid drops in the forest, not even realizing how valuable it is to those who dont have anything to keep them warm, a small piece of his layers of winter clothing he doesnt even notice is missing when others are lucky to even have a jacket.
This is actually the emergency exit of a "diablo rojo" (safely watched iver by Jesus himself), all decked out with its painting. Some people would argue that these old school busses serve better as canvas for urban art than modes of transportation.
And, we all cram in. Standing in the aisle of the refurbished bus, I wondered how many people there actually were on the bus, and how the little "Max. Capacity 67" sign was either not understoof or just flat out ignored (most Panamanians have a basic enough sense of English to figure out what it means). All the cold animals cram themselves into the mitten; here the need to escape the cold is the need to get from point A to point B, and the bus is the mitten that provides that so coveted warmth.
With one small difference. This steel mitten, with its bolts and screws and sparkplugs and axles, doesnt gracefully expand to accomadate all its needy occupants. Therefore, it is the occupants who must accomadate for others as they cram on, doubling over, pressing at least two thirds of your body against the wall, the roof fire exit, or some unsuspecting stander-by. And just when you think the bus is full, people are hanging out both exit doors, ive people are crammed side by side in the two foot passage way between seats where three children are sitting on one woman's lap, and oversized people hang off into the aisle, the driver stops at a bus stop, telling more people that there really is room, leaving all the animals in the mitten too hot becuase there is no air to breath let alone a breeze that refreshs as they try to find a blance between the need to be somewhere, the pain of being forced to be a contortionist, and the desire to not want to hit some old lady on her head with breifcases, shopping bags and textbooks.
I wonder why this happens? Whose fault is it? We can pin the blame on a number of sources. The greedy bus companies and school districts who really dont care or dont know that selling their busses to under developed countries is dangerous, becuase they get some extra profit. The government who makes said purchases and does nothing to inspect or repair failing busses. The drivers who continue to let people board so they can get their extra twenty-five cent bus fare. Or the people who just continue to push and shove, allowing such degradery become a part of their everyday life, whether because they dont know any better, they are lazy or they dont have the resources to make any better proposals.
Like the animals in the mitten, we all just want to be warm. We all have places to go. And the bus is the reality of our situation. And unfortunately, this mitten story doesnt have a happy ending. The kid doesnt come and find his mitten torn to shreds, and is saddened by it. No, when busses burn and people die, there is no action to prevent it from happening again, there is no one to step forward and take the blame, there is no one who seems to care.
Hardly the appropriate children's story.
Tuesday, October 02, 2007
A return to Bloggage
I relaized the void in heart was cuased by the lack of blogging.
I hearby solemnly swear to protect, uphold, and promote the enternal documentation of my trivial thoughts and sentiments as stated in the blog agreement made to all those who seem to find some kind of enlightenment from my rambling.
I hope you gain from reading this blog, and please leave your comments. I want to really do this well!
Thanks. And I promise I will write more!
keep reading.
I hearby solemnly swear to protect, uphold, and promote the enternal documentation of my trivial thoughts and sentiments as stated in the blog agreement made to all those who seem to find some kind of enlightenment from my rambling.
I hope you gain from reading this blog, and please leave your comments. I want to really do this well!
Thanks. And I promise I will write more!
keep reading.
Monday, October 01, 2007
Dichotomy and Anniversary
So I have been thinking alot about what it means to live in Panama. I feel this dichotomy has taken over my life. I am not really American anymore, but I am not Panamanian by any chance. There is not that wow I really have come into myself here feeling, nor am I overrun by some maddening nostaglia, driving me back to everything that is "my" culture. Everything seems to have this "everything and nothing" Catch 22-ness to it. I guess this is what we talked about in my culture shock classes. The feeling that "I am but a stranger here" will probably be the maxim for the rest of my experiences abroad. And yet, this feeling didn't go away on my last trip to the states, nor do I think I want it to go away when I eventually return. Friends told me I spoke like a Mexican, "or definatly at least with a Latin accent" and I was shocked at the looks of complete and utter bewilderment when I paid for a $25 bill at a restuarant completly in cash. As Tolkein said, some wounds (I prefer the word change here) are too deep, and we must go about learning how to tie the strings of two different lives together.
But, that is what life is about. Dichotomy.
I also realized that it is a very important time for me. There are few seasonal changes in Panama that are used to mark the seasons, so time just seems to continue without any kind of change. Some of the few changes that remind me of my approximate location in the "seasonal" calendar are as follows:
1. Fast food restaurants start putting out "fish sandwiches" in the weeks leading up to lent, and menus at restaurants Friday nights only offer fish and seafood specials (since most Catholics here don't eat meat on Fridays in Lent.)
2. Christmas decorations come out notoriously early here. ie. Its the first of OCtober and I already have shopped for my Christmas decoration. So while this might remind me that its beginning to feel alot like Christmas, I have adjusted my clock to have the arrival of Christmas decoration remind me that I need to get ready for Labor day.
3. The floor needs to be swept every five minutes. In February and March, farmers all over the country burn off all the growth from last year, and since they do it in the middle of the breezy dry season (for obvious reasons), it means that soot and ash are blown all over the city, and if you leave your windows open and unattended, your living room will soon be filled with little pieces of burnt corn husks and leaves. This occurrence always reminds me of what would be the beginning of spring in the United States.
4. Pompus grass turns white as it grows. And as the hills around the city are covered with it, it is about the only image that comes remotely close to looking like snow. This always happens the last weeks of September and the first weeks of October, and it reminds me of when I first come to Panama.
And that brings me to the point of this entry. While I am sure you appreciate the discourse on Panamanian culture, I am writing for other reasons. Yesterday as I drove through the fields, I saw the pompus grass and realized that at this time today, exactly two years ago, I was waking up in a new country for the first time. So, that means that today is the first day of my THIRD year in Panama. Wow. I have learned so much, and have changed so much, even though, as I have said, there is not much distinction of time and change here in Panama. That dichotomous feeling is how I have changed, as as with any big change, there is also that ambiguity of is this who I am, or is what I am doing right. That is maturity for me, and those of you who know me would say the same, since living with dichotomy and any kind of ambiguity was never really my strong suite. I miss you all and thank you for your continiuos emails and thoughts and prayers and ask for you to join me today in the happiness that I feel for accomplishing the feat of living in a foreign country for two full years.
But, that is what life is about. Dichotomy.
I also realized that it is a very important time for me. There are few seasonal changes in Panama that are used to mark the seasons, so time just seems to continue without any kind of change. Some of the few changes that remind me of my approximate location in the "seasonal" calendar are as follows:
1. Fast food restaurants start putting out "fish sandwiches" in the weeks leading up to lent, and menus at restaurants Friday nights only offer fish and seafood specials (since most Catholics here don't eat meat on Fridays in Lent.)
2. Christmas decorations come out notoriously early here. ie. Its the first of OCtober and I already have shopped for my Christmas decoration. So while this might remind me that its beginning to feel alot like Christmas, I have adjusted my clock to have the arrival of Christmas decoration remind me that I need to get ready for Labor day.
3. The floor needs to be swept every five minutes. In February and March, farmers all over the country burn off all the growth from last year, and since they do it in the middle of the breezy dry season (for obvious reasons), it means that soot and ash are blown all over the city, and if you leave your windows open and unattended, your living room will soon be filled with little pieces of burnt corn husks and leaves. This occurrence always reminds me of what would be the beginning of spring in the United States.
4. Pompus grass turns white as it grows. And as the hills around the city are covered with it, it is about the only image that comes remotely close to looking like snow. This always happens the last weeks of September and the first weeks of October, and it reminds me of when I first come to Panama.
And that brings me to the point of this entry. While I am sure you appreciate the discourse on Panamanian culture, I am writing for other reasons. Yesterday as I drove through the fields, I saw the pompus grass and realized that at this time today, exactly two years ago, I was waking up in a new country for the first time. So, that means that today is the first day of my THIRD year in Panama. Wow. I have learned so much, and have changed so much, even though, as I have said, there is not much distinction of time and change here in Panama. That dichotomous feeling is how I have changed, as as with any big change, there is also that ambiguity of is this who I am, or is what I am doing right. That is maturity for me, and those of you who know me would say the same, since living with dichotomy and any kind of ambiguity was never really my strong suite. I miss you all and thank you for your continiuos emails and thoughts and prayers and ask for you to join me today in the happiness that I feel for accomplishing the feat of living in a foreign country for two full years.
Friday, May 04, 2007
And he lives!
Hey. After months of bloggin lackage...I am back by popular demand. Things have been so busy here in Panama that I hardly know where to begin. First, let me tell you there are sme big changes in my life.
First, visa status. Well, in the hope of self preservation, I wont publish any actual REAL information here, but hey. Things are going GREAT with the VISA. I was so APPROVED for my WORK VISA and my RESIDENCY has come up WITHOUT A HITCH ;) No, things have been rough and the whole visa process really forced me to think about a maybe not so optional trip back to the states. I was planning to leave my current job at Berlitz on May 15th, and well I resigned myself to looking for and even sending resumes to places of possible employment in the States.
But then lightning strikes and God drops the solution in my lap. I was offered a job at a company that, let me tell you, I couldnt really pass up. Just the timing alone of the way it all worked out made me seriously consider the offer, and when he told me what I would be doing, well, I was sold.
He had me at one word: TRAVEL!
I will be working for a company as a customer service representative, working to reruit and bring in new international customers, as well as helping them through the process they hardly wont understand, namly since they wont speak Spanish. I was told of traveling to the United States and Europe, and when I asked how often I would be traveling, well the CEO (who is the one created this job speficially for me!) told me (and I quote) "As much as you want."
So they really needed to pull my leg on that one! And here is the kicker. They gave me the starting date that I wanted, so I will have time to make a trip back to the States to visit family and friends and go to a friend's wedding! I am so excited!!!!!!!!!!!
Well, thats a quick update for now. I guess I have to easy back into this blogger thing!
keep moving...
First, visa status. Well, in the hope of self preservation, I wont publish any actual REAL information here, but hey. Things are going GREAT with the VISA. I was so APPROVED for my WORK VISA and my RESIDENCY has come up WITHOUT A HITCH ;) No, things have been rough and the whole visa process really forced me to think about a maybe not so optional trip back to the states. I was planning to leave my current job at Berlitz on May 15th, and well I resigned myself to looking for and even sending resumes to places of possible employment in the States.
But then lightning strikes and God drops the solution in my lap. I was offered a job at a company that, let me tell you, I couldnt really pass up. Just the timing alone of the way it all worked out made me seriously consider the offer, and when he told me what I would be doing, well, I was sold.
He had me at one word: TRAVEL!
I will be working for a company as a customer service representative, working to reruit and bring in new international customers, as well as helping them through the process they hardly wont understand, namly since they wont speak Spanish. I was told of traveling to the United States and Europe, and when I asked how often I would be traveling, well the CEO (who is the one created this job speficially for me!) told me (and I quote) "As much as you want."
So they really needed to pull my leg on that one! And here is the kicker. They gave me the starting date that I wanted, so I will have time to make a trip back to the States to visit family and friends and go to a friend's wedding! I am so excited!!!!!!!!!!!
Well, thats a quick update for now. I guess I have to easy back into this blogger thing!
keep moving...
Wednesday, January 24, 2007
From Costa Rica
Well, things have sure changed. Even the blogger wedbiste has updated, while I have been off in the abyss of non bloggage.
I am now in Costa Rica for training for my job with Berlitz. I am enjoying it, and really have nothing to write. Just thought it was time to put something up here. Pictures of Costa Rica to follow!
I am now in Costa Rica for training for my job with Berlitz. I am enjoying it, and really have nothing to write. Just thought it was time to put something up here. Pictures of Costa Rica to follow!
Tuesday, October 31, 2006
Start of the Holiday Season
Well, without even knowing it, Christmas season is already here. Tommorow, for those of you in the states, all the Christmas decorations will be out after the obligatory Halloween sales, but such barier does not exist in Panama. Since the Christmas items have been up for grabs since September, I guess I become desensitized to the approaching holidays. It wasnt until Saturday when I went to the mall and they were putting up their Christmas Tree. And was after I had gone ice skating at the new ice rink. Yes. There is ice in Panama.
And all this conincides with the National Holidays that seem to take over the month of November. This weekend we have a five day weekend for Independence Day. We are going to Chriquí to get away from the city and just relax. Pictures on that to come. Then its back to work, then another long weekend, then one full week of work (the only in November) and then another long weekend. It is going to be great, getting a break from work since it is what I have been doing since July! YEAH! More updates on the Panamanian holiday season to come.
And all this conincides with the National Holidays that seem to take over the month of November. This weekend we have a five day weekend for Independence Day. We are going to Chriquí to get away from the city and just relax. Pictures on that to come. Then its back to work, then another long weekend, then one full week of work (the only in November) and then another long weekend. It is going to be great, getting a break from work since it is what I have been doing since July! YEAH! More updates on the Panamanian holiday season to come.
Saturday, October 21, 2006
Sunday, Vote; Monday, Civil War
At least thats what they are saying on the radio. Although, the was has been going for sometime now. It´s only intensified the last two weeks. As Panamanaians approach one of the biggest decionsions of their lifetimes, the campaign is getting stronger on both sides.
Panama has many resources, but the most famous is the Canal. El Canal es Tuyo (the canal is yours) is a famous saying here in Panama ever since the canal was returned to Panamanain power in 2000. And since it is tuyo (yours), obviously the whole country takes pride in THEIR Canal.
The goverment also takes pride in the canal, and there are many laws protecting it, pormoting it and making sure that the canal remains neutral, that the profits are used for the benefit of Panama, and that the canal is the pride of all Panamanians.
So, what happens when the world grows up, and the bridge between the worlds needs to grow up with it? Thats whats happening right now.
Tommorow, Panamanians will head out to the polls to vote whether or not the canal should be expanded. Both sides of the campagian have been plowing the streets, promising everything from ecological destruction and economic bankrupcy to international investments and better lives. And all this action is playing out in the capital, the place I call home. And since the canal belongs to the people, beleive me, the people are going to speak, and have been speaking about this issue.
Some say we need to punish the government or not being transparent enough and to vote no. Other rebuke with "How many jobs does a no produce?" Still the battle rages, "Why should we give a blank check to the government?" To Finally, "Every good Panamanian should vote yes for the good of the country.
Everyone knows that the "Sí" is going to win. Most people express that confidently, but there still remains some doubts. If the no wins, what happens? Civil War? I doubt it. But just to keep it safe the government makes laws that no one can drink, buy or sell alcohol withing the sensative hours of the vote...to try to keep it as calm as possible. So, last night was the election party, as the whole city went to bars to get their weekneds fill of alcohol, trying to numb thier minds to ever present battle between the sí and the no.
To grow or not to grow, sí or no, that is the question many Panamanians will answer tommorow. And I get to watch it all play out in front of me.
http://news.bbc.co.uk/2/hi/americas/6070066.stm
Panama has many resources, but the most famous is the Canal. El Canal es Tuyo (the canal is yours) is a famous saying here in Panama ever since the canal was returned to Panamanain power in 2000. And since it is tuyo (yours), obviously the whole country takes pride in THEIR Canal.
The goverment also takes pride in the canal, and there are many laws protecting it, pormoting it and making sure that the canal remains neutral, that the profits are used for the benefit of Panama, and that the canal is the pride of all Panamanians.
So, what happens when the world grows up, and the bridge between the worlds needs to grow up with it? Thats whats happening right now.
Tommorow, Panamanians will head out to the polls to vote whether or not the canal should be expanded. Both sides of the campagian have been plowing the streets, promising everything from ecological destruction and economic bankrupcy to international investments and better lives. And all this action is playing out in the capital, the place I call home. And since the canal belongs to the people, beleive me, the people are going to speak, and have been speaking about this issue.
Some say we need to punish the government or not being transparent enough and to vote no. Other rebuke with "How many jobs does a no produce?" Still the battle rages, "Why should we give a blank check to the government?" To Finally, "Every good Panamanian should vote yes for the good of the country.
Everyone knows that the "Sí" is going to win. Most people express that confidently, but there still remains some doubts. If the no wins, what happens? Civil War? I doubt it. But just to keep it safe the government makes laws that no one can drink, buy or sell alcohol withing the sensative hours of the vote...to try to keep it as calm as possible. So, last night was the election party, as the whole city went to bars to get their weekneds fill of alcohol, trying to numb thier minds to ever present battle between the sí and the no.
To grow or not to grow, sí or no, that is the question many Panamanians will answer tommorow. And I get to watch it all play out in front of me.
http://news.bbc.co.uk/2/hi/americas/6070066.stm
Saturday, October 07, 2006
Silence
So something happened last night that happens every once in a while. In fact, it happens so unfrequently that I feel compelled to write about it.
Last night, I was tired. This week, I had worked for 56 hours. That may not seem to be a lot, but in the laid back culture of Panama, and after the laxidelic environement at the mission where I probably only worked ten hours a week, 56 hours is a big wake up call for me. Anyways, I was tired.
Laid Down in bed and listened to my cieling fan. Trying to sleep, listening to the white noise of my fan and my neighbors airconditioning usually helps me fall asleep over the wall of sound that is the night club that just happens to be in the building right behind mine. Not to mention the never ending traffic and its inseccent honking on Avenida Cinqentenario (probably the fifth most important street in the city) and its unheeding intersection with Calle 50 (probably the third most important street in the city). I am actually proud of the noises I have trained my self to sleep through.
Well last night...the music in the night club slowly dies down. Thinking I had a black out moment and it was no four in the morning when the club closes, I check my clock. No...its only 12 midnight. And there is no traffic. No horns. No brakes skidding, no underage children hanging out the bus door yelling where the passing bus in going. Nothing.
In that instant, I was wide awake. This was only the second time in my whole time in the city where there was absolute silence. The walls in my room grew big, like it was the first time I noticed them, and the room seemed alot larger than I remembered. Its as if all that fleeting noise has actually taken up space in my room, and no longer there to disturb me, I simply strecthed out my legs and yawned. I counted the minutes that this pheonomeon would last. One Minute. Three minutes. What was going on in the world that for this three minutes, everyone in my little barriada was quite. And what was everyone else thinking in the moment. Did they continue with their lives, or did the notice the silence too?
Sometimes, I am cuaght off gaurd by these little happenings. The simple silence reminded me of, first of the things that were missing. I couldnt help to feel relaxed, but yet, wide awake, like the silence was the brink of something new that would break upon the face of the earth, and life would be normal again. What is is about silence that leads us to this dicatomy of wanting forever to live in its serenity but not trusting or wanting ourselves to be swept up into it forever, counting every minute we spend while the unspoken suddenly become the first things we find our selves trying to say.
Well, enough rambling. Maybe I am just tired and need some more sleep!
Slowly the cars began to pass, the music came back on,
Last night, I was tired. This week, I had worked for 56 hours. That may not seem to be a lot, but in the laid back culture of Panama, and after the laxidelic environement at the mission where I probably only worked ten hours a week, 56 hours is a big wake up call for me. Anyways, I was tired.
Laid Down in bed and listened to my cieling fan. Trying to sleep, listening to the white noise of my fan and my neighbors airconditioning usually helps me fall asleep over the wall of sound that is the night club that just happens to be in the building right behind mine. Not to mention the never ending traffic and its inseccent honking on Avenida Cinqentenario (probably the fifth most important street in the city) and its unheeding intersection with Calle 50 (probably the third most important street in the city). I am actually proud of the noises I have trained my self to sleep through.
Well last night...the music in the night club slowly dies down. Thinking I had a black out moment and it was no four in the morning when the club closes, I check my clock. No...its only 12 midnight. And there is no traffic. No horns. No brakes skidding, no underage children hanging out the bus door yelling where the passing bus in going. Nothing.
In that instant, I was wide awake. This was only the second time in my whole time in the city where there was absolute silence. The walls in my room grew big, like it was the first time I noticed them, and the room seemed alot larger than I remembered. Its as if all that fleeting noise has actually taken up space in my room, and no longer there to disturb me, I simply strecthed out my legs and yawned. I counted the minutes that this pheonomeon would last. One Minute. Three minutes. What was going on in the world that for this three minutes, everyone in my little barriada was quite. And what was everyone else thinking in the moment. Did they continue with their lives, or did the notice the silence too?
Sometimes, I am cuaght off gaurd by these little happenings. The simple silence reminded me of, first of the things that were missing. I couldnt help to feel relaxed, but yet, wide awake, like the silence was the brink of something new that would break upon the face of the earth, and life would be normal again. What is is about silence that leads us to this dicatomy of wanting forever to live in its serenity but not trusting or wanting ourselves to be swept up into it forever, counting every minute we spend while the unspoken suddenly become the first things we find our selves trying to say.
Well, enough rambling. Maybe I am just tired and need some more sleep!
Slowly the cars began to pass, the music came back on,
Tuesday, September 26, 2006
New life, new look
So my apartment is starting to feel more like a home. Since I am not woring 23 hours a day this week, I have been able to spend more time there. It also helps that I now have some essentials, like pots and pans and oh yeah gas for cooking. Beleive me, you can only get so creative with a crockpot, and after a while, you just want to eat instead of planning for the next meal of your life. And a word to the wise...hard-boiling an egg in a crock is just not very entertaining. Unless you are a fan of salmonilla.
I just need to add some of the touches...like piant in some thing other than monotonus white, and give some areas a really good scrubbing. Pictures to come soon...I just havn´t bought batteries for my camara.
Oh yeah, also still missing a bed. There was something cool, remisnicent of my childhoos camping trips about sleeping on an air matress, but now it is just getting old! I have a bed ready for deleivery in a couple days. I am so excited to no longer sleep on the same floor I am realizing needs alot of scrubbing...
Classes are good and I am keeping really busy. I am getting into the swing of working everyday...something that rarely happens at the mission. I am also having alot of time to do some reading, and I just finished My Antonía by Willa Cather...a book so beautiful that I actually, get this, missed Nebraska when I read it. Yeah thats scary.
One of the things in the book is that the Best days are the ones that die first..optima dies prima fuget (from Virgel)..the latin equivalent of "time flys when you are having fun", a phrase I have had to teach many times in my Berlitz Experience (we teach it in level 2, 3, and 6!), and one that I am learning about every day. While the latin phrase is more melancholy, and Cather's characters says about those best days that "I wish I could be a little boy again, and that my way could end there", I dont see it as so melancholy. This week marks a year that I have been in Panama. And I cant help to think that these days have each passed away quickly, leaving not much more than photos on my computers and hazy memories of places, peoples, and things that have changed my life. And I cant help but to think of all the other hazy memories I have from other best days. I am fortunate to have had a very blessed life, full of experiences, and full of blessings from God, who has been the provider of my best days. ANd I am not melancholy, wishing for some distant memorie of the past to be my reality, but look forward to more of the best days that are in store. Carpe Diem.
I have a new theme for my blog...
until later
I just need to add some of the touches...like piant in some thing other than monotonus white, and give some areas a really good scrubbing. Pictures to come soon...I just havn´t bought batteries for my camara.
Oh yeah, also still missing a bed. There was something cool, remisnicent of my childhoos camping trips about sleeping on an air matress, but now it is just getting old! I have a bed ready for deleivery in a couple days. I am so excited to no longer sleep on the same floor I am realizing needs alot of scrubbing...
Classes are good and I am keeping really busy. I am getting into the swing of working everyday...something that rarely happens at the mission. I am also having alot of time to do some reading, and I just finished My Antonía by Willa Cather...a book so beautiful that I actually, get this, missed Nebraska when I read it. Yeah thats scary.
One of the things in the book is that the Best days are the ones that die first..optima dies prima fuget (from Virgel)..the latin equivalent of "time flys when you are having fun", a phrase I have had to teach many times in my Berlitz Experience (we teach it in level 2, 3, and 6!), and one that I am learning about every day. While the latin phrase is more melancholy, and Cather's characters says about those best days that "I wish I could be a little boy again, and that my way could end there", I dont see it as so melancholy. This week marks a year that I have been in Panama. And I cant help to think that these days have each passed away quickly, leaving not much more than photos on my computers and hazy memories of places, peoples, and things that have changed my life. And I cant help but to think of all the other hazy memories I have from other best days. I am fortunate to have had a very blessed life, full of experiences, and full of blessings from God, who has been the provider of my best days. ANd I am not melancholy, wishing for some distant memorie of the past to be my reality, but look forward to more of the best days that are in store. Carpe Diem.
I have a new theme for my blog...
until later
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